


The Trench And The Tower

by Alina_Rose, rebel_red (Alina_Rose)



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: F/F, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 10:07:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 59,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19332373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alina_Rose/pseuds/Alina_Rose, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alina_Rose/pseuds/rebel_red
Summary: Carnation has lived in Dema her whole life. Despite that, it has never quite felt like home to her. She feels smothered, unable to breathe within the restrictive walls. Unlike the others, content to live in this Glorious City, she has always longed to see what is outside and to be free from Dema's confines. At the same time, she grapples with a terrifying power she never wanted and learns of a secret group on the outside she thought only existed in stories.****TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF SUICIDE AND POSSIBLE SELF HARM, EMOTIONAL ABUSE****Based on info from this site (http://dmaorg.info/found/15398642_14/clancy.html), interviews and the Jumpsuit, NATN and Levitate music videos and the interactive Bandito experience imaband.itoI did not create Dema. it was created by Tyler Joseph and Josh Dun.I have related to Tyler's worlds of Dema and Trench a lot. So many of us see our struggles within this vague, grey city. I saw myself in Dema so much I began to create a character of myself living there to help me process my mental stuff. This is her story. My hope is that maybe, just maybe, you will see yourself in Carnation and that this inspires you in some way.





	1. Chapter 1

I feel heavy, so heavy. The hall is dark. I feel as if I am completely alone. But wait, I'm not alone, am I? Yes, that's the thing. Why else, after all, would I feel the need to run? I hear the bishop footsteps draw nearer and unbidden, the thought of those dark, dark hands, my neck, the nothingness, the emptiness, and pointlessness, even more so than was typical in Dema, that would follow for weeks after- no, even months. I had always been more susceptible to the Bishops' hands than others. Was it my imagination, or did the Bishop sound closer? 

I tried to lift my legs, get as far as I could, but my body was lead. When I finally managed to move, I seemed as if I was running in slow motion. Not fast enough. Silly, silly girl. thinking you can run from me. Then, suddenly, what limited movement I had left me. All hopes of running, all hopes of finding whatever it was in this tunnel again-Where was I? What exactly was I looking for?- all hope, period vanished. All I knew was the cold, almost suffocating presence drawing nearer, nearer, nearer. You cannot run from me. As the dark hands closed around my neck, everything abruptly fell away. Was this what smearing always felt like? But there was no time to ponder this. Faster than the thought going through my head, my eyes opened. I am lying on my hard, narrow gray bed - "Good for your backs. And keeps you from being too lazy" the bishops say- in my gray room. The Bishop-mandated Vialae Lamp in the center of my room is dimly glowing, the only variety of color in the whole room. It is a strange, glowing white, not gray. The sky is black. But, as I look down, so are my hands.

I stifle a sob of frustration. They could be anywhere, watching, and they must never know about this. All of my hopes for my life would be gone, smothered away like Bishop Black on necks. All of this for a power I'd never want, never choose. As quietly as I can, I go to the small sink and rinse and scrub away until my hands are nearly raw. And after that, I lie back in my bed, tossing and turning, and finally, right before dawn drifting into an uneasy sleep filled with dreams of black hands, scarlet cloaks, white horses, and gray cities. Flowers, the ones that grow on the outside of the city. The ones as red as the Bishops' cloaks. And maybe, somewhere, a strange flower the color of the sun.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, when I awaken from the uneasy sleep that I have begun to grow used to, I awaken with that strange feeling that sometimes overtakes me, screaming inside me that time is running out. The days and weeks do seem to be going by so oddly fast. And yet, also terribly, horribly slow. Always has, if I really think about it. Maybe that is how life is. And does it matter, anyway? We never seem to do anything worth it, anyway. Why bother? I begin to wish it would all just go away. My face contorts out of frustration with everything and I feel the urge to scream. Or cry. Or both. My hands start turning gray, but I do not notice.

My thoughts begin swirling faster, faster and faster still around my mind as I wonder why not a single soul- if anyone here even has souls anymore- seems to be affected by this city the same way I do. At least, I think it's the city. I couldn't tell for sure. I mean, it's not like I've ever been allowed out. I'm not allowed to even go to all places within the city. The Towers, one for each Bishop, are mostly forbidden. The Great Convocation Hall is restricted except for the Annual Assemblage of the Glorified- which is actually coming up in a few days. After that, lessons will restart. This is supposed to be a a big deal because we will begin higher level studies, which to me translates into higher levels of tedium. It's not particularly hard. Just a lot of repetition and memorization. Just terribly boring. Just less time for reading and poking around the city. I should consider myself lucky, at least, I am able to complete my tasks with ease and am not a Disgrace To My Bishop And All Of Dema. Which is not terribly hard when your Bishop is Nico. 

Anyway, where was I going with that? _I know it can be difficult but right now it is important to focus. If you are lucky, you will figure something out._ My hands, still unnoticed, have faded back to normal hand-color. Where was I? Right! The Convocation Halls! And how there are all these places you cannot go even within the city. And more than that how the city affects me differently. The lesser Convocation Halls in each region are also off-limits except for- well- lesser convocations. You are supposed to stay in your region. Even then, if you go down certain halls and they find you... well let's just say it can be bad. maybe even smearing bad, depending on where you go and how devoted you are to Our Glorious City. And the Necropolis- well, let's just say don't go there if you don't want to stay there. Forever. And trust me, you don't want to. Those Monument of Exhaltation in there seem to buzz with a strange energy, to call you to join them. Even on the holiest day of each moon cycle, when it is open to the  public, the energy doesn't fade. Maybe, it is the souls of the lost, finally set free to realize they were lied to. Maybe they cry for the lives they never lived. Maybe they eternally scream, in vain, for their lives back.

Now, I know what you are thinking. I break these rules pretty regularly from the sound of it. Keons's library? I live in Nico's region! (and if he found out it would be very, very bad). Poking around the edges of the city? The bishops would hate that! And what are you looking for anyway? Well, actually, these lead back to my original point, how the city affects me differently. I wander around the outer parts of the city and read so much because I want to know if there is anything outside of here and, if there is, how to get it. It is so important to me to discover this because of how I feel in here, a feeling that has become harder and harder to explain since, in addition to being a feeling, and so, by nature being very hard to explain, it is also a feeling that doesn't seem to be shared by anyone else I have ever met. They all seem perfectly content to stay within the walls of this Glorious, gray city, never thinking of what else may be out there, and to serve their Bishops and do what is asked, unquestioningly. I feel sure there must be more out there. This city seems to smother me with its restrictions. I have always been terrified by these Bishops that those around me believe will save us. They say they will take our worries, our fears, our pain away but I have never felt more afraid, more frozen and useless, than when in the presence of Nico, our Glorious Bishop. Luckily, except for the Annual Assemblage, I have no cause to be around the others, but many of them seem to have the same energy that fills me with some sense of terror or hopelessness, as opposed to the protection and safety the others speak so praisingly of. To most, this place is a home. But it feels sometimes as if it's killing me slowly, rotting me from the inside? What is wrong with me?

I know what happens to those like me. We do not last long in this place. I have heard tales of those depicted as going mad, unable to be helped by our Bishops, eventually succumbing to the blackness within. Smeared repeatedly. Slitting their wrists with stolen razor blades. Throwing themselves off stone ledges by the courtyards. Fed to the vultures. An assemblage is held by the lost one's bishop, who talks of how that "poor soul" has at last found peace. How sometimes it can all be just too much, and how he is perhaps better off now. A Monument of Exhaltation is erected in the Necropolis, next to so many others. Will mine soon join them? Do I, too, exist only as food for hungry vultures? I feel sick, thinking of the so-called "Watchers", claimed to help keep our city safe, gorging themselves on the now-empty bodies of those who could not have empty minds. Whose minds had betrayed them. Who were trapped. Crazy. Insane. Mad. Was that me? Everyone always said these people had lost their minds. They would likely say that about me, too. But I privately wondered, sometimes, if we were not the only ones who still had their minds. 

Sometimes, then, my mind would lead itself into even more dangerous places. Why do the Bishops do nothing to stop these people from dying? Why, in fact, do they seem to encourage it? What other purpose would those ledges serve, exactly? Why is the will to live always gone after the smearing? Before that, they seem so alive. Do they want them gone? Do these so-called "mad" ones pose some sort of threat? And again and again, repeating in my head like a blinking Vialae lamp: Am I crazy? People seem to think so at times, what with my wandering, occasional mumbling to myself, strange restless urges, occasional bouts of fearfulness, distractibility, emotionalness, going off on tangents and avoidance of most other people (and that's just a starter list of what is seen as wrong with me. What no one realizes is sometimes the things people do that others see as crazy is just their way of staying sane).Right now, my "craziness" was an advantage to me. People wouldn't take anything I did very seriously, if they even noticed me. "Oh, there's crazy Carnation, wandering off again", they'd say. "Poor thing". I will admit, it sometimes hurts. But maybe, just maybe, while they laugh, I can make it out. I know if I want to live I must get out. I must. and I will. I have to believe that. One day. Maybe soon. I do want to live. Don't I?


	3. Chapter 3

Mostly, those people I mentioned, the ones called crazy, are gone now. Gone and never talked about except occasionally, in pitying tones. They are known as the Lost Ones, the ones the Bishops couldn't save. Their Monuments of Exhaltation are smaller, typically unmarked. Soon they are forgotten. Perhaps we are made to forget. They are not the Glorified. They are a sign of Dema's failure, perhaps, and that cannot be. Dema is a place of protection, of security. A sanctuary. So why does it feel we are all merely waiting to die? I push these blasphemous thoughts away. The Bishops always seem to know, somehow (I push away the niggling thought that reminds me of how I often seem to know things too, how I can sometimes predict things before they happen. And I do not check my hands). I've gotten lucky so far. I must change my thought patterns, if I want to survive. If I can't get out. For all I know the tunnels are just a story, the outside too. Maybe Dema truly is all there is. Despite myself, I find myself thinking that that is one of the most depressing ideas I could have thought of. Is that how they get you?

For the most part, all that are left now are those gray people, sleepwalking through their days. Gray clothes, gray minds. But almost never gray or black necks. No. It has been boasted that the whole of Dema has not had a smearing in 4 months. Even in Nico's region, it has been quite awhile since someone was smeared. These people are ever-obedient to their Bishops, always seeking to bring honor to their Glorious regions for their Glorious Bishop and all the other Bishops in this Glorious coffin (oh sorry, did I say coffin? I meant city of course. May The Nine forgive me and may they bless my poor soul). They sleep but do not dream. They bless their Viale and they pray to their Altars Of The Glorious Lost. When they die, if they are lucky, they will become one of them too. They are the Glorified, those who have given their lives to Vialism, those who receive special honor at the Annual Assemblage that is named for them. Not dead, not yet anyway, but may as well be. Dying for Vialism is the greatest honor. And if you are not one in life, do not fear. You still have an opportunity to be named a Glorified in death. 

If you ask me, it doesn't matter much. You are still vulture food either way. But you are held in the highest of honor by the Bishops and you get a bigger Monument of Exhaltation and a longer Convocation, and of course you are honored at the Annual Assemblage Of The Glorified as well. And, I guess, there has to be something at some point that matters, even here, and this is what was chosen. It sure keeps everyone devoted to this place, though I do not quite understand why, exactly, we are living if we are just living to die. Once, when I was younger, before I knew I must not ever say such things, I asked my mother this question. She got angry and said I must never disrespect our Glorious City this way (Nine bless her soul, she is one of the most devoted to this city I have ever seen. And she got me for her only daughter. I almost feel sorry for her. Almost.) She warned me to never say what I had said to the Bishops. Of course, I proceeded to ask Keons the next day, since I thought he was the nicest Bishop and terribly wished I had lived in his region instead of Nico's, who terrified me (my mother almost burst a blood vessel when she heard that. I wondered if it would be like the time at Convocation when Nico was making a Vialae and it was faulty and exploded all over the place. I laughed. Nico saw. That was when I learned what smearing was. Luckily, I only got a lecture about my ingratitude in this case). Keons seemed to be interested in my question, and taught me about Vialist philosophy. I still wasn't sold, but it was at least somewhat interesting. 

Unfortunately, Nico found out later and that result was the same as that of the Vialae fiasco. Plus a Glorious Lecture about everything that was wrong with me. And another lecture from my mother when I woke up. "The Nine only know what we will do with you- No respect for anyone- What did I do to deserve this- What will the Bishops think- yadda yadda yadda". She always said In would be the death of her one day. I never appreciated anything she or anyone did for me. And I started to wonder if maybe she was right, ashamed of the feeling that had curled inside of me when I thought of her being gone. Relief. I could be free.

Ashamed of the thick, dark nastiness that rose in me when I least expected it, the hatred that sometimes filled me. The manifestation of it on my hands. The urge to take it off my hands and out of me, it morphing back into the pain it was born from and leaving its mark on someone else. I never did. I couldn't. I forced myself to remember that even if it felt as if I wanted to in this moment, I didn't want to hurt anyone. But I could. I was a monster, or at least a potential one. And I knew the Bishops must never know. They would use it to their advantage and I would never become one of them.

Though I was so impossibly young, I remember the first time I laid eyes on a Bishop. Some things you just never forget. Nico had come to bless my Vialae soon after I had been born. As soon as I saw him I screamed. Though I was only a tiny baby, I swear I can remember as clearly as anything the look of disgust he gave me. And then, right then, from that impossibly young age, I knew there was something wrong with me. I continued screaming as my mother angrily hushed me.

Screams. I was had now reached my fourth or fifth year and there were screams coming again from the room of the man who lived down the hall. He was the bane of Nico's existence. I was never allowed to talk to him because my mother and Nico said he was crazy. At night he would scream. But sometimes, on good nights, he would sing. I used to hear it, sometimes, when I couldn't sleep at night. It helped me sleep. The worst were the nights there was silence. Once, I was playing outside and I saw Nico dragging him on the ground. In his hands, he held something. I tried to walk behind him where Nico couldn't see so I could figure out what it was. I had never seen anything like it. As I drew closer, I saw it was a flower- The same one from my dream?- I was so intrigued, I stopped paying attention and stepped on the back of Nico's cloak. Luckily, I noticed just in time and hid behind a cluster of bushes before he could see me. 

That night, when I was supposed to be asleep and my mother was at a Night Convocation, I was lying in bed, trying to sleep and listening to the singing. Suddenly, it got further away and stopped. I heard a commotion in the courtyard outside. I looked outside and could see others throughout the building doing the same. I grabbed a chair to stand on to see better. When I looked down, I couldn't believe it! There was the man down the hall, who had started singing again. And there, surrounding him, were more people. But these people didn't look like anyone in Dema that I'd ever seen. They were all wearing strange clothes in strange colors and carrying the oddest-looking Vialae, all flickery and moving. They looked like... could it be?... Banditos? 

My favorite stories were the ones about Banditos. I loved hearing about them and their strange clothes and torches which were like Viale but different and best of all how they lived outside, somewhere else. I used to say I wanted to be a Bandito when I grew up, but stopped when people looked at me like I was crazy for saying it. The Banditos were supposed to be scary, to teach kids to stay in Dema and be careful and good. When a kid wandered off, it was common for parents to warn them "Don't go too far or the Banditos will get you!" I used to wander off in the hopes that they would and that I could see outside. I hoped it would be different than the City.

And these Banditos, if that was indeed what they were, didn't seem scary. The singer, who was wearing the same sorts of strange clothes as them, embraced one of the Banditos. Then, to my surprise, they all started walking away together. Were they leaving the city? All the stories were true! Before he left, the singing man left his Bandito jacket behind on one of the statues depicting the original Glorified. 

After they left, I moved the chair and went back to bed so no one would suspect I had seen anything. I somehow knew that this was not something I was supposed to see. A few mornings later, I saw the singing guy was back, freshly smeared. I realized I had never seen his neck clean. But I thought he was gone? I wanted to ask him all about what he had seen, but I wasn't sure it was safe. He may have forgot anyway, if he was smeared. But I wanted to say something, so I thanked him for his beautiful singing. He smiled sadly and slipped me a dried flower, the same one I had seen him holding that day that already seemed so long ago. I ran back home, clutching the flower so tight I crushed it. The next day he was gone. And this time, I never saw or heard him again. Probably, he had lost to the City, but I liked to think maybe he had gotten out again and became a Bandito. Maybe he made it, this time. Over time my mind has convinced itself what I saw that night was only a dream, but I still hope for him. And, maybe, for me, as well.

The flower. Finally, I have a place to start. I will try to find the flowers I saw in my dream. I believe they will bring me closer to a way out of this place, or at least some answers.


	4. Chapter 4

 I began to move to get out of bed. It was too cloudy to see the sun, which was typical for Dema, but it was time to start my day, glad to finally have a clue for going forward.

 

With that purpose in mind, I began the process of forcing myself out of my bed. Though I guess I shouldn't be by now, I am always surprised by how difficult this one, fairly simple motion is. Your mind, not unlike some of the bishops according to tales, likes to use persuasion to convince you to stay in place, that it will be better here. Do I really want to get up? Yes, I tell myself sternly, and drag myself out before my mind can form another objection. I go to my chest of drawers and rifle through my clothes. All gray, none too different from the others. I pull out the first gray shirt and pants I see, wishing pointlessly for more color. 

I find it unfair that the Bishops with their crimson cloaks get to be the only color in this whole place. Well, except for the few flowers -weeds, the bishops say- that persistently grow along the outer wall of the city, despite the Bishops sending people to rip them out of the ground at the first sight of a bloom, red like their hoods, like spots of blood on the strangely dull grass, with edges that almost look sharp. Not the strange flower like the one I had been given as a child, but the other flower I had seen in my dream. If I found those, I had no doubt I could find the others as well. 

 As I threw on my gray outfit and ran a brush through my long, wild curls- perhaps one of the only things in this city that could not be controlled, though not for lack of trying. Unsurprisingly, Nico hated it- I formulated a plan. My mother was busy with some Glorified something or other so I was free to go out without her usual interrogation of every last movement I made. Today I would go again to Keons's library and read any book on plants if I could find any, searching for information about my flowers. I would also, I reluctantly thought, read more about Bishops and their history, in the hopes of discovering anything about their... hands. Later, I would walk to the edge of the city from there in search of flowers. Finally, most importantly, I would search the city for any possible exits. If (when!) (if) I was successful, I would pack that night. And tomorrow, during the intensifying preparations for the next day's Annual Assemblage, when everyone- and most importantly the Bishops- were busy and distracted in the Grand Assemblage Hall, I would do it. At last, I would leave the city. I ignore the part of my mind kept insisting I was crazy, that I would never make it out. I have to try. It may feel scary and nerve-wracking but I know if I don't try I truly will be stuck here forever. Making a mental note to also assess how to distract the Watchers, I step out of my room and down the hall, already imagining the moment I would step out of this forsaken place.


	5. Chapter 5

As I walked down the hall, I almost bumped into a girl looking to be only a year or so older than me. "Sorry-", she started, but I had already walked away, so determined to find answers I had barely noticed. I hardly registered this appology, so unusual here. If you bump into someone -which, come to think of it, is not a particularly common appearance in Dema. It maybe strangely hollow-feeling but nothing here is messy. Me, my hair, my clumsiness, my thoughts... they are exceptions here.- you would likely grunt something that was maybe supposed to be an apology and blankly continue on. 

Or sometimes, if it was me, shout at me for being so clumsy in a burst of rare Dema anger. Especially if someone near my age is involved. The other kids I have studied with in Nico's region always found me odd and often mocked me. Not necessarily so much different, I sometimes thought, than our Bishop himself. Kindness was hard to come by in Dema. And I had soon realized that it was very hard to give kindness when you were not often getting it. So I now didn't interact with the other kids much and didn't speak until spoken to, often only to respond with venom on my tongue. I would be like one of the poisonous spiders that hid in dark, shadowy corners of the City, so toxic even the vultures wouldn't come close. I began feeling this toxicity, thick, dark and bitter, rising up in me more and more. I'd feel even more rotten inside than I already did. Normally, I only felt as though I was slowly decaying but suddenly, it would feel as though everything inside my body had already rotted. And I wanted others to feel it too. This thing that had started to protect me had began to become out of control. My hands began to blacken during these moments. I would step out when I felt it coming on, hurry to the nearest sink to scrub my hands. Though I knew it was bad for me, I sometimes used the harsh, strong-smelling chemical used to sanitize the sink itself. I wondered, if I drank it, would it sanitize me too? No. Crazy, crazy, crazy. It will kill you. Funny, knowing that didn't take away the urge. When I returned, I'd say I was sick. After awhile, no one questioned it. I was known as sickly, as well as crazy. It wasn't that much of a stretch, anyway. I had always been smaller and weaker than others, in so many ways.

I shake these thoughts out of my head, pretend I am sanitizing my brain. They won't do me any good. I must remember that, when the thoughts pull me under. I know what it is like to drown. With a shock, I realize I am almost there. I am not surprised, I get lost my head a lot. Being in my head so much is maybe the only way I can survive this place. Or, perhaps, the reason I cannot. 

I laugh a little, thinking I could almost be mistaken for the other people mindlessly walking this city. Almost. Until you see my eyes, large and dark, a little too wild-looking. A little too bright. I tend to look down so my eyes are not noticed. If they see too much energy in your eyes, it is smeared right out of you. I am, unknowingly, walking like anyone else heading someplace in the city, hurrying along, not even noticing my surroundings. I must change that. I pride myself on noticing things. I must get out of my head. It doesn't matter that I could get where I'm going in my sleep. I must try to look up, look around. That is what makes me different from the others here.Only a few minutes until I am there now. As I pass a barn, I pay a quick visit to the horses in there, the Bishops' beautiful white horses. This is where they go when the Bishops aren't riding them around the city, making their rounds of their respective regions. I stop for a few moments to pet them, having always felt sorry for them. If you pay attention, you can tell how terrified they are of their riders. I wished I had a bit of food to give them. I don't, however,  so I continue along my way. 

 

When I reach the library, I ask the librarian, a benign old woman with a habit of calling me by the wrong name, about the red flowers at the outskirts of the city. "Oh, you mean the carnations? You may know them instead as Bishopsbane, that's their common name." I had never, in fact, heard them called by either name. I had no idea I was named after a flower. I was torn between pride at being named after something that was such an annoyance to the Bishops, as well as just because they were pretty flowers, some of the few that grow here and hurt, at being named after what was considered a weed. Either way, it was a surprisingly accurate name. "Yes. What can you tell me about them?" "Well, they have always been growing there. No matter how hard the Bishops try to get rid of them. Because of this, they are sometimes associated with rebellion. The Bishops don't like that. They are associated sometimes with the tales of the Banditos. "

 Done talking, and maybe afraid of saying too much, she nods toward the books on children's tales, one of my favorite shelves in the whole library. I am too old for them, but they are the only stories in this whole place, except for the Vialist texts. It is blasphemy to call those stories, anyway.  The Banditos have always fascinated me, though as I grew older I dismissed them as myth. I used to pray for them to take me away, out of here and would spend hours imagining what it was like out there. I remind myself that the Banditos are not what I came here for today. If I focus, I will be able to hopefully see what is out there for myself, Banditos or no Banditos. I ask the librarian for books on plants in Dema. Unfortunately, there is only one in the whole library. Unfortunate but not surprising. The library is small, only one room, and, this being a sacred city, mostly only containing things related to Vialism. It's the only real library there is in the whole city, as Keons had always valued reading most of all the Bishops, and crucial if you want to find anything but the Book Of The Viale or the Vialist Code of Conduct. Those, you don't have to look hard for at all.  

 "Thank you", I say. "Anytime, Aster", she replies absently. She quite frequently calls me that, and I've always been curious about who this mysterious Aster was. Whenever I ask, she always brushes it off as a mistake and quickly changes the subject. Right now I have more important things to worry about anyway so I take the book and begin to look through it. I guess it would make sense for there to only be one. There aren't a whole lot of things growing around here anyway. Now that I have learned about the carnations I know that they are in some way related to the outside. That is probably the main reason the Bishops hate them. Well, that and daring to add unsanctioned color to their gray city. I hope against hope that the book will have something about the other flowers too, since that is what I still need to find. It seems likely they relate to the outside as well. As I flip through the trees, grasses, herbs and vegetables, seeing no sign of flowers that look even similar, another idea comes to me. Could it be that these flowers only  grow on The Outside?

 As I flip through the book, I begin absently humming, only noticing when the librarian looks angrily over at me. I realize it was the song that the singing man had sang, that strange, strange night. It seemed almost important, somehow. I keep humming, quieter this time, digging through my memory for the words. I look down at my book. It has opened to a map of the city, with symbols in all four directions. North. South. West.... East? 

 There must have been a mistake in the printing. The little E for east was pointing upward. I had once been forced to study a map and compass in every spare minute until I could tell each direction. I had always been terrible with knowing which way was which. So now, those little symbols were forever burned into my brain. Why was east up? Wasn't North supposed to be up? East is up. That was what the man had sang. When I saw him and the Banditos leave in the dream, which way had they gone? I remembered watching them out the window I could always see the sunrise through. They continued that way. East. With a thrill, I realized I had a better idea of where to go. I could do this after all. But my eyes landed on the center of the map showing the Towers, each named after a Bishop. With a suddenly heavy heart, I remembered what else I was here for. I started going through all the books I could find about the Bishops. I found nothing, nothing but the usual about how glorious they were, how they built us this city and brought us here. Nothing but the knowledge that there wasn't anything that could be done for me.

Enough of that. I couldn't let this place do this to me. Forcing back some of the energy I had just been filled with, I closed my book, got up from my seat, walked out, and headed east.


	6. Chapter 6

As I make my way out of the library, I just barely notice the library caretaker's face. Faces reveal a lot, and this one reveals that she notices something out of the ordinary. The fact that I was on a mission, that I was planning something- certainly I seemed to determined, more so than anyone here had need to be- she must have seen some hint of that in my movements or facial expressions.  As my heart slows down from the fear of possible discovery, I try to force myself to act more normally, silently cursing my eyes for always betraying what I would rather not see and those in Keons' region for their unusual observance and focus, unique to their Bishop. I inwardly groan at the thought of the wise, elderly Bishop- kind, especially compared to the others- for once hoping to not run into him. I used to look forward to running into him occasionally during my trips to his region, enjoying his quiet wisdom and gentleness and especially his stories, particularly when compared to intrusive, critical, abrasive Nico, but now I dreaded it. While I believed him to be a kind Bishop, it was important to not ignore the Bishop aspect for the kind one. He was so observant that I had no doubt he would quickly discover my plans and quickly put an end to them. Then Nico would find out and that would be- 

"Carnation!" the caretaker's voice suddenly cut into my thoughts. At first, all that registered was that she actually remembered my name. Unusual. I realized that she was asking if I was alright and that I must have visibly shuddered at my last thought. I manage a weak nod. She seems unsatisfied, so I add "Just a chill is all". She still doesn't look entirely convinced. I know what she's thinking.  Lately, strange fits of weakness have begun to come over me. Some days I will wake up feeling strange and spend the whole day feeling as though I am about to pass out. Other times, I will be walking down a hall or across a room and suddenly black out for a few moments and be forced to lean against the nearest sturdy object to avoid collapse. Sometimes I see things, quick flashes of visions that are over as quickly as they appear. Those are the worst. Those are the times I feel sure I am losing my mind. I assume these spells in some way are connected with my darkening hands, as they started occurring at around the same time. So no one knows the true extent of it. They all assume I am merely a sickly, weak girl, which isn't entirely untrue. All the more reason to keep me in Dema, so even still I try to hide my spells as much as possible. If my mother or Nico or anyone knew, I would be even more restricted and I couldn't let that happen. I won't. I put on my best reassuring face and continue on my way. 

 

East. I forced myself to remember the map of the city. Luckily, I wasn't too far out of the way. I would only have to go one district over, to Lisden's region- was that really east? No, that wasn't east at all, was it? That strange compass, messing with my head.  East was the direction of Reisdro's region, was it not? But east is up... Which is right?  I remind myself that I still have time. Today, I would find my way out. Tonight, I would pack and tomorrow, while everyone was busy with preparations for the Annual Assemblage, I would at last make my escape. And if I got caught-well I would just have to hope that didn't happen. I head to Reisdro's region first. I have heard rumors of his ruthlessness and cruelty, and intend to get my time in there over with as soon as possible. Sneaking through the halls, I put to use all my skills in becoming invisible that I have learned over the years, checking for any doors, thanking all that is bright and glorious every step of the way for not being caught. The layout of the buildings is pretty much the same as those in Nico's and Keons' regions, and for the first time in a while I find myself grateful for Dema's predictability. As the halls get darker and lower,  I feel almost light. I have never felt this way before, and it takes me a moment to recognize it as hope. I had known hope before, but it had always seemed to be a tiny thing, like a spark escaping in the making of a Vialae lamp. This seemed to fill me, the way the darkness did but different. So different. This is what we miss, living here.

I see what looks like a promising door and, barely able to contain myself, hurry toward it. I am so close. Then suddenly, almost in the blink of an eye, someone else is in the narrow hall with me. A girl. The same one from this morning? How long has she been there? Was she following me? She has strange eyes. Green, maybe, or blue, but less muted than anything here I would know as those colors. Bright. Too bright. I feel another presence and suddenly everything feels all wrong. Her mouth opens in warning. That is the last thing I remember before another, unmistakeable presence surrounds me and tightens around my neck.

Sacarver.  Before I have time to wonder how I can instinctively identify the Bishop, everything goes black and cold.

It is not a dream, this time.


	7. In Between Two Places

I am in an unfamiliar place, absolutely unlike any place I have ever seen. I am sitting on a ledge, gray like I'm used to, but made of real rocks, more rough and natural-looking than the smooth concrete of Dema. It is covered in patches by a strange green carpet. It is alive, I know somehow. I am alive. All around me are more of these rocky ledges. I am up high,  and I feel closer to the sky, which is so much bluer than I knew it could be. Here, there are no towers to obscure it. The sun shines bright and warm on me. I never realized how cold I always was.

The height doesn't scare me like it usually does. I don't need to be afraid. How could I, when all this beauty surrounds me?  So bright, so vibrant. So real. Somehow I know that this is the realest of anything I have seen, anything I have experienced in my whole life. The city- I find I don't like to think of it- was nothing but a shadow, an illusion.

Another girl sits beside me. She looks like me, but she is not me. She is slightly taller than me, and my hair has more curl to it. It is like looking at a reflection, but not seeing exactly what you expect to see. It is disconcerting, but fascinating at the same time. When I Iook at her, I do not feel uneasy. I feel that maybe I am not alone anymore. I remember when I was young and would see my reflection  in my bedroom window when I was dark and I would say it was "the other Carnation" and pretend that one night, she would come out of the window and play with me. I never understood why my mother got so upset whenever I mentioned her. 

I shake my head. This is no time for the perplexities of my time in Dema. Suddenly, it seems so long ago, though I believe I was there just yesterday. How, exactly, did I end up here?  I had been trying to get here before, hadn't I? Still, even here, my mind found it couldn't answer this. I didn't dwell  on it.

Me-not me smiled and I smiled  too. I found I truly was happy. Something else, too. What was the word for it? Free. I was free. 

There  were  flowers growing where I sat, ones I had never seen before but knew I had seen somewhere. A wind had  begun to blow and petals floated down and drifted to the ground near us.  I collected a handful and looked at them in my hand. I looked at Me-not me, and tossed them toward her. They drifted through the air again,  settling in her hair  and on her shoulders. One even landed on her face, right above her eye. For a moment I feared she would be angry, before remembering I had  no need to fear, not here, not now. Instead, she laughed, scooped up another handful and threw them back toward me. Soon, petals were flying everywhere, our hair was full of them, and we were both laughing. It was a mess, but we would not be punished. There was space for chaos here. I knew there would be no Bishops, no constraint, no darkness, no smearing. 

I ran down a path, between the ledges. It was so open here. I paused for a moment to look up, and felt lost in all of it.  Yet  somehow, I felt less lost than ever before.

This was home,  I knew.

And suddenly, before my eyes, it all faded away. Soon the lush beauty was replaced by grey, and I instantly forgot what I had seen. When my eyes opened, I was left only with a deep longing for something I did not know and a sharp pain that filled my head where these wonders had lay only moments before.

I stared at the blank gray wall, obscured by shadow in the darkness, like I had never seen it before.

I was home, again.

I close my eyes and long to go back, to what I'm not sure. 

I know that I will remember nothing in the morning, anyway.

I heard a melody, somewhere in the back of my head, leading me back into a gentle sleep. The song sounded familiar, like a lullaby, though I knew it was not one that was common. It doesn't seem like one the Bishops would like, somehow.

"...Now the night is coming to an end... The sun will rise, and we  will try again..."

This time, as the disembodied voice sings, I do not know where I go. I hope wherever it is, it is peaceful, and that I do not need to be afraid.


	8. Chapter 8

Everything is black. And so, so cold. I try to move but my body can't seem to do it. All there is, all there ever has been is this cold, dark nothingness, and I stop resisting. Am I dying? So this is what it feels like. I wasn't supposed to die, was I? What is this?

"-Should have known I'd find you here-"

I hear voices and realize I have gained some bit of awareness. Curious, I make myself as still and silent as possible and strain my ears to listen.

"-Don't know what was going through your head, Chlorine. You put everything in jeopardy. Everything we worked for, Chlorine." 

"But-" 

"I don't want to hear it! You do not just go off following some girl without talking to one of us first! And from Nico's region no less!" 

"Isn't the point of- of us to get people out of here? Clancy would say-" 

"Does it look like Clancy is here?" 

"No, but what about Josh? He noticed Tyler, that's the only way he ever got out of here"

"Yeah, well, look how that almost ended up. And remember your parents."

Defeated, the voice that must be Chlorine spoke once again. "You should have seen her, Stryker. Her eyes- they were so bright. And she just looked so alive. Too alive for this place. If she stays here it will kill her too. And I think she was trying to leave, Stryker. She was so close. She could have been one of us, even". 

"Yes, that is true. But she has been smeared. When she wakes us she will not remember any of this. You will do no good for her now. And if you keep acting so impulsively, you will get us all caught and get more people like her in trouble. And then you will not be able to help anyone. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Stryker".

"And stay in your region. Don't go where you shouldn't, at least for now .You need to earn our trust, which, let's be honest, you have not been doing such a good job of so far. And that notwithstanding, I can't imagine Reisdro will react well to one of his residents running off constantly".

"Reisdro can-"

"Don't even finish that, Chlorine. Do you want to end up like her?" 

Is he referring to me? Was I smeared? Where am I? What happened? I can already feel the shadowy darkness I had come from reclaiming me. 

"I think she can hear us"

"Great. Who knows how much she's heard? We have better get out of here now. Nico could be coming to get her any moment now. And let me remind you none of us would be in this position if it wasn't for you getting involved where you had no business getting."

"With all due respect, Stryker, she seemed to be doing fine causing trouble on her own."

"Not anymore, she's not. And I don't want to see you around her again. Too much trouble, that one. More than she's worth." 

"Are you jealous, Stryker?"

I want to reassure them that I won't tell. I would be too confused to, anyway. But I have already forgotten, sliding back into oblivion.

It is cold. So cold. Has it always been like this?

Yes, something tells me. This is all there is. 

Something else inside me is screaming at me that it is not, that there is more, but it is too much work to hear it. And I am so tired. So I let the dark take me. 

Until suddenly, my eyes open to the harsh white light. My eyes hurt. I must look away or I may go blind. I try to turn and discover I cannot move. I am not alone. A figure steps in front of the light. Suddenly the temperature of the room seems to drop even more, if that was possible. Cold hands hold my face, forcing it to look upon a veiled face. Nico.

"I know what you were doing, Carnation. And it will not happen again."

"I still do not understand what has happened. I was walking, and Sacarver... That is all I remember."

"Stupid, stupid girl", Nico says disgustedly, moving closer. "Lying. Always lying." 

I cannot remember if I have ever been so terrified in my life. His very presence seems to suck all the air out of my body. Black spots appear in front of my eyes.

"You deserve to be fed to the vultures. You aren't good for anything, anyway."

I can do nothing but stare, my sight already leaving me again. 

"Your- face- is- blurry"

Darkness.

Glorious Darkness.


	9. Chapter 9

This time, when I wake up, my surroundings are familiar. I am in my own bed, my own room, and I could almost believe I was just waking up as usual. Almost. The sun is shining its usual weak, watery light across the dull blue sky, through my window. I curl up as small as I can, wishing I had never woken up. Everything feels wrong. It is too cold. Moving seems hard. I cannot seem to remember anything clearly, and nothing seems to have a point. Why am I still here? I don't know what I mean by here. Where else would I be? My head hurts suddenly, as if it had hit the boundary of something I could not cross. I suddenly feel I do not want to be anywhere at all. Can this all just end? 

Even through this, I know I must get up. I make myself remember how to stand. Try to walk. Is it always this hard? Before I know it, my vision momentarily darkens and I am falling. I hear footsteps coming closer. I am filled with a sense of inexplicable dread. "I told you to stay in bed", my mother scolds. I do not remember this. 

Some of my dread has dispersed. Whoever I thought was coming, it was not her. Though I am still not at ease, nowhere near so.  I know I so often disappoint her.  This appears to be no exception. She sighs. "I don't know what has gotten into you, Carnation, honestly. I know you know better than this. Now the Bishops think you are not to be trusted. And, truthfully, I agree."

 "I didn't do anything! I don't even know what happened! Last thing I remember I was walking down the hall. Then I woke up and everything's all wrong and I'm scared."

 By the time I finish, I'm near tears. Ashamed, I try to push then down, angrily swiping at my eyes. I do not cry. When I look up at my mother, I can tell she doesn't believe me.

 "I tried so hard to raise you. To do what's right and teach you to do the same. Sometimes I think you don't even appreciate any of it. Sometimes I don't even know why I try."

 I hate when she says this. I try not to be ungrateful. I don't think I am. But what if she is right? Sometimes, between her and Nico, I don't even know what is true. I try to be good but I must be just a bad person by nature. Even the Bishops cannot save me. The tears cannot be stopped by now. I know that Nico would say it was weak and I know my mother will just think I am trying to manipulate her, but it has become uncontrollable. I hear her say more things:

"You are safe in this city. Life is easy here, and the Bishops care for us. Is that not enough for you? You will not be a Glorified. When you die, they will throw you in the towers and the vultures will eat you away, will take and take and take, just like you do, until you are nothing but bones. You will be put in one of the Graves Of The Lost, and you will be forgotten. Unappreciated. You will know how it feels-" 

I close my eyes, willing the words and the tears to go away. I squeeze them as tight as I can, like this is all just another terrible dream. Wishing I was somewhere, anywhere but here. With that thought, my head flashed with that same, strange pain. No, not just like hitting a wall. Like being on the edge of something with only a faint feeling you know what is beyond it. Like as even that vagueness slips away, you are cut by the edge's sharpness. For a split second, the voice is mercifully gone. Before I can feel relief, it is replaced by a flash of images. 

Long, gray halls. The same as ones I know, but different.

 The feeling of being close to something.

 A compass, but something is off. 

A strange flower.

 Running. 

Oddly bright, green eyes. Almost glowing. A warning.

Bishop red.

Bishop black. 

No air.

Hushed voices, arguing.

Nico.

It is all gone just as quick as it appeared. My mind is left strangely empty. My mother is still talking. "-End up just like your aunt Gloriana." Aunt Gloriana is my  mother's younger sister. I never knew her. She died soon after I was born. All I know about her are the stories my mother tells me, usually after I did something unsatisfactory, that apparently she had done when she was my age, since both of us are apparently incapable of doing anything right, and the one old photo I found of her, where I was somehow not too shocked to discover that she bore a shocking resemblance to me.  I wondered, sometimes, if she had as much trouble with her hair as I did, and how many times she sat in the same places I sit, listening to the same lectures. I wonder if she was ever bored in this place too. If she ever fidgeted like me, and if she got yelled at for it, too. Most  of all, I wondered what had happened to her. My mother will not tell me what my aunt did before her poor unsettled soul found its peace, but it was something horrible, and my mother and Nico seem to fear that I will end up like her one day. Then again, they will not tell me what I have done, either, so maybe I will end up like her after all.

Still, my mother talks. I am lucky she does not notice I am not listening.

"-will leave you now. I have so much to do before the Annual Assemblage tomorrow. Don't know what we'll do about you, can't very well hide THIS. Well, nothing to be done I guess. Make sure you are ready and remember you start your lessons again the day after. We will talk more later. And know that there will be no more of this wandering around. We will keep a better eye on you, as we always should have. Can I trust you not to go anywhere the rest of the day?"

I nod. I don't see how I could possibly go anywhere anyway, seeing as I could barely even walk a few steps without collapsing.  

Besides, where would I go? There is nothing but here, anyway.

Look where poor Gloriana ended up.


	10. Chapter 10

I stay where I am on the floor, unable to move, exhausted from this nerve-racking and confusing confrontation I had just witnessed. I have been feeling so out of sorts since I woke up, and everything since yesterday afternoon is so hazy. What has happened to me? And what did I do during that time that I cannot remember? Everyone is so angry at me and I'm getting sick, too. Right before the Annual Assemblage, of all times. I resign myself to the fact that I have to go. Everyone in Dema is required to be present, organized by region, to show honor of the Glorified who gave their life for their belief, as well as those most upstanding citizens such as my mother. The ones who still live, if you can call it that. There is absolutely no excuse for absence, certainly not for a little sickness. Especially after whatever unspeakable thing I did yesterday. 

 And then lessons. More repetition. More children of the Glorified from Nico's region, blind and blissful to the Bishop's teachings as their parents. All of them think I'm strange, though my mother thinks I just need to make more effort. She just wants me to stop being strange, too. And now I'm even more of a disappointment, apparently... 

Everything suddenly feels so wrong. It had felt that way since I woke, but in these past few moments it has worsened. It feels as if everything is smothering me, as if the very room I'm is slowly poisoning me, killing me. Dread for the days, going on and on and on, dull and miserable, seemingly pointless, but something more. Everything seems so very pointless, and I suddenly wish to not be living anymore. I should be fed to the vultures. It's only a matter of time, anyway. The uncomfortable feeling has settled at my throat, reminding of something...

My mind,  still echoing my mother's earlier words, catches on one of the things she muttered before she left. "-Can't very well hide THIS!" I had found it strange at the time.  I knew she was always concerned with how people saw her, but what I had done, this mysterious offense- no one would actually be able to know about it, would they? Unless... The realization grips me, strengthening with every passing moment like the feeling of wrongness filling my throat, as I wondered how I had not come to this conclusion sooner. My spotty memory,  this "illness", why my mother was so ashamed- I had been smeared.  

I check in the glass and indeed, there were the black marks on my neck.  After awhile, they would fade to gray and eventually disappear, but I would be left with this very visible reminder,  penance for a forgotten violation, for several more weeks. I had been smeared before, and I feared it like nothing else. I had always tried so desperately to avoid it and here I was, neck blackened. I stared, not wanting to recognize the smeared girl who stared back with huge,  dark, vacant eyes. But it was not the marks that made me fear being smeared so. No, it was the way I always feel for so long afterwards. Like I lost part of myself, yet I don't quite know it. Like I begin to disappear. And worst of all, I am fine with that. I could drift away completely, none the wiser. Completely willing. By the time the smearing fades it could be too late. I could already be gone. I am lucky. I am able to keep some bit of myself after being smeared, something small and bright reminding me of what is true, but that may be lost at any time. Already, I lose a bit more of it with each smearing. And, really, what is  true? I think I know, but what everyone else accepts as true is so very different. Are they  all blind? Or am I just insane? The blackness seems to prove I  am. Is it taking away the truth or showing it to me? The whole thing feels foggy, and my already murky mind is making it more so. I realize I am shivering and hurry to lie down before the Coldness comes.

When it does, no matter how ready I think I may be, how soon I felt it coming on, nothing can prepare me for it. How no matter how warm the space you are in is, you feel so cold. You are already so much colder after smearing, especially since the air in Dema is always just the smallest bit too cold to be comfortable anyway, but now you feel as though you will never be warm again. You shiver uncontrollably, and you can't stop, and you begin to feel nauseous. It seems as though it will never end and you begin to almost long for the vultures to take you. 

Then, suddenly it subsides, then it ends. You are left numb. Empty. You are lead, dull, heavy, hollow. You would think that the end would bring relief but it does not. This new feeling is just as bad, just in a different way. It will lessen some, but it will be with you for as long as you are smeared. To some extent, it is always with you. It would be hard for it not to be. Here, everything is gray, and beauty is rare. At times, it truly feels there is nothing here for you. Nothing but the lights in the Necropolis, glowing like beacons, calling you home. The Bishops and their strange, yet somehow wise faces. The vultures. Seemingly ever-present always watching, waiting, hungry. 

Through the window, the sky, too, is gray.  I cannot  remember the sun.

I don't know how long I lay there, the emptiness my only companion. I know I should be  preparing for the Assemblage, praying to the The Nine and The Glorious Lost, but for once I cannot even force myself to do anything. I lay there until my mother returns and if she is disappointed as she no doubt is that I did nothing in preparation for this Assemblage she thinks is so important, she mercifully says nothing. At any rate, she seems mostly relieved I have not gone anywhere as she evidently fears. 

  We sit down to eat, quickly blessing The Nine for  providing us with sustenance and praying to in turn one day be sustenance for the City. I do not notice what I ate. It wouldn't have mattered, as food here is mostly tasteless. It is only to sustain us, anyway. It doesn't much matter what  it is. As we eat, she talks  of the Assemblage. How I must be  on my best behavior. My  studies would be different this year, she said. I would be with  different peers than before. I didn't care. They might be different,  but they would still be the same. I must make an effort, she said. She thinks that I get into so much trouble and wander off because I have no one to spend time with. If I spent more time with the other  children, I would be too busy for such things. I do not think it matters.  In Dema, you are always alone, anyway. I am relieved when we are both done eating. I lay out my best sweater and leggings for tomorrow at my mother's request.  After that I return to my bed. I try to read my one book of stories, a gift from Keons years ago, but my mind cannot concentrate.  I finally put it away and turn out every light until only the always-lit Vialae glows.

  I turn restlessly, strangely mesmerized by the bright-white glow until it slowly leads me into a dreamless, trancelike sleep.

  I half-hope tomorrow will never come.


	11. Chapter 11

Unfortunately, tomorrow soon becomes today, as quickly as it often does when you are dreading it. After what seems like mere moments, my eyes slowly, reluctantly force themselves open. I see light dully glowing through the thin curtains that veil my window like a Bishop's face and know it is time to begin this Glorious day. I hear my mother's footsteps drawing close and tried to hide under my blanket, pretending to still be asleep. That did not stop her, if she even noticed. 

"Carnation, it is time to wake up." she announces sternly. When I did not reply, she sighs. 

"I know you are awake. You need to get ready now, or you will make us late." I sigh back. 

"This is a scared day, and your irreverence will not be tolerated. You are disrespecting everyone who has ever been devoted to our city, and you are disgracing yourself. We will leave in a quarter hour, and I do not want to see any more of this behavior. Now, clean yourself up. Well, the best you can, anyway." 

As soon as she leaves the room, I roll my eyes as I go to my chest of drawers and retrieve the clothes I had laid out yesterday. I barely did anything, just made one small sound. Nearly inaudible. I try so hard to be a good daughter, even when it is hard, and still she always manages to find fault with me. It is all terribly discouraging, and I sometimes find myself wondering why I even try, if all she or anyone else does is pick me apart. However, I know it would be so much worse if I ceased to be so obedient. So, no matter what I feel inside, I try to appear outwardly like the perfect child, doing whatever my mother, Nico, or anyone else wants. My small violations and wanderings are done quietly and go relatively unnoticed. Until yesterday, apparently. And look at what state I am in now. I had always, always, been so careful to not get smeared. And yet, here I was. I cross the room again, dress, rinse my face, tame my hair to the best of my ability, pull on shoes, all as agonizingly slowly as possible. Still, I finish way sooner than I would like and am forced to begin to plod toward the door. 

"CARNATION!!!" my mother yells impatiently. "IT IS TIME TO GO!" I speed my pace some, but she's already marched back in, checking the windows to make sure I didn't somehow try to escape through them. Foolish. These windows are made nearly impossible to open. Even if you could make it out, the windows in our apartment are all high enough that you would not survive the drop to the hard concrete below. Actually, I think, as she grabs a clump of my hair, grumbling "Did you even brush this?,"Death might not be so bad, right now.

She half-drags me out our door and continues down halls at a near-impossible pace, never for a moment letting me out of her sight and glaring impatiently if I get too far behind. Gray, gray, more gray. Only the occasionally Vialae to vary things a little. As I pass through the halls, I feel a strange sense of deja vu, like I had thought the same exact thing as I walked down different halls. Different but the same, and this time underground. I shrug it off. It would be hard not to notice the dullness of everything, so dull it probably appeared to be underground. I only think I remember halls in another part of the city because everything here is the same. I had not been to most parts of the city, as regions were mostly kept separate, but in my lessons on the history of The Sacred Municipality Of Dema, I had learned that each region of the city, lead by a different Bishop, was built identically to the others. It was not a stretch to think I would imagine being somewhere else while walking these same halls.

Every region would be at the Assemblage today, the only time in a year that they were together for any time at all, and I wondered how many across the city all saw the same things. I wondered if any saw anything different. Keon's region, I knew, while very similar in appearance to Nico's, somehow felt different. A little less cold, less severe. I suspected that that was mostly due to the Bishops that respectively presided over them, and wondered if all regions had that slight difference. 

As we hurry down a flight of stairs, I lose my balance and trip. "Careful," scolds my mother. I pull myself back up and nod, embarrassed by my clumsiness. A sudden burst of anger burns inside me, unbidden. Anger at myself, for always being so graceless. At her, for treating me like a delinquent, and perhaps most of all at the fact that I don't know why, or what happened. Internally, I curse everyone in this whole city. I can feel it, the familiar blackness rising up and I worriedly check my hands, praying that they won't darken. Not now. Not today. Please. 

A few more indistinguishable gray hallways and concrete stairs, and we've arrived at the Assemblage Hall. We must first go to the Bishops, to receive a blessing. As she pauses to greet someone she knows, she looks at me like she thinks I'm going to make a break for it. I really do not know why she is so paranoid about this. So typical of her. Always that overbearing, smothering presence. The distrust. The blackness returns and this time, I see my hands turn ever so subtly gray. I hurry to wash off my hands. By the time I get to the washroom, my discolored hands have become nearly noticeable. As soon as I finish washing my hands, my mother enters. 

"You are not to wander off like that again," she says.

 "I just needed to wash my hands," I said. So typical of her, yet again, making me feel like the most wicked girl that has ever existed for any small infraction.

 "You don't even trust me to do that?"

 "After what happened, I'm really not sure you can be trusted," she says. 

"I don't even remember what happened!" I say pleadingly. Tears start to fill my eyes. I am embarrassed at always showing weakness to her when I promised myself long ago that I would be strong, but remind myself that teary eyes are better than darkened hands. She must know, somewhere inside, that I have truly forgotten, and briefly, she seems to almost soften. Almost as soon as I notice, the moment passes and her face quickly becomes stern again.

"Now, we will go to Nico. You must be on your best behavior. No more running off." 

 "I know." 

"And after that, you will meet some of the others who you will have your lessons with. Please at least try to get to know them."

 "Ok."

 "I was just talking to the mother of a girl named Neena. She seemed lovely. I will be sure to introduce you." I do not respond. 

" You know, I really try to help you feel like you belong here. You could be a bit more grateful." 

"I know. I'm sorry." 

"You really aren't."

Is it my imagination, or does Nico look at me with more contempt than usual? I try to assure myself that it is just my imagination. Perhaps that is just how Nico always looks. I already feel anxious enough encountering him under normal circumstances, and facing the line of all nine Bishops is downright terrifying. The thought of facing nine Bishops who look upon me with scorn almost makes the idea of being picked apart by vultures sound preferable. But indeed, as I look down the line, the faces of every Bishop, half black, half chalk-white, seem to be filled with more than the usual amount of abhorrence, regarding me as if they are forced to behold the biggest disgrace this city has seen. There is Nico, looking at me like I am something small and vile he has picked from the sole of his boot. Reisdro, with a glare that seems to freeze my insides. Nills, who seems as though he, too, wishes the vultures would devour me right then and there. Sacarver, as well, looks particularly spiteful. I cannot bear to even look at Keons. He must hate me, too. He is the one person I trust, in this whole place. While I'd like to believe all the Bishops have my best interests at heart, like I'm always told, he is the one person I feel sure won't hurt me. But if I look into his eyes now, if I see the hatred there that I see etched across every veiled face, I know something inside of me will break. 

It is customary for everyone in Dema to stand in front of each Bishop as they each bestow a blessing upon every one of their devoted followers. On the day of the Annual Assemblage, everyone gets to be one of the Glorified, for a few moments. Even abominations like me, it would seem. I also receive blessings of forgiveness for my sins, which while unspecified are apparently numerous. As I go down the line, receiving my blessings, I can still feel the disdain hanging in he air, a near-tangible thing, and it does nothing to ease the terrified feeling that seems to grip every part of me. And yet, despite my terror, my hands itch. Something inside me knows that I am one of them. That this is where I belong. No. They must never know. I repeat this like a mantra, until I am almost at the end. Until I cannot avoid facing Keons any longer. As I finally look him in the eyes, all other feelings leave me, replaced by overwhelming shame. The elderly Bishop's face is not scornful like the others. It is as kind and wise behind his veil as usual, though shadowed with disappointment. Strangely, it feels equally as upsetting as the hostility of the other eight, and I suddenly feel the tears return. 

"Keons," I whimper pitifully, unable to help myself. 

"Yes, my child?" he replies, putting his hand on my shoulder in a familiar, comforting way. His kindness makes me want to cry even more, somehow. 

 "Do you hate me too?" 

"No, Carnation. I do not. I hope you know that the others don't either."

 "Are you sure?," I whisper.

 "Of course, child. They may seem angry now, but I'm sure it will not last. Do not worry, Carnation. You are a good girl. You will do your penance, and then you will be just fine" 

"But I don't even know what I did! Do you know? Can you tell me?"

 "Don't worry about it. It was a small thing, and I know it won't happen again. Now, put your mind at peace on this Glorious day." 

It didn't seem like such a small thing, if it merited being smeared, but already my mother was hurrying me along to a pew in the section designated for the inhabitants of Nico's region. Next to us was the woman who my mother had been speaking to earlier, with a girl who must be Neena by her side. I assess her quickly. Light-colored hair, the color of the straw eaten by the Bishop's horses, cut to above her shoulders. Blue-gray eyes, narrow and a bit slanted. Pale skin. A friendly-looking face. Taller than me, though that's not rare. Most are. She looks like there is something bright and flickering and not quite controlled behind her eyes, like an unconfined Vialae. I had wanted to dislike her, but cannot help liking her on sight. She smiles. 

"I'm Neena." My mother looks at me encouragingly, with a little warning in her eyes. For once it wasn't needed. I return Neena's smile with a small one of my own.

 "Carnation," I reply softly. I sit there awkwardly, unsure what to say next. I hadn't had much experience speaking to others my own age.

 "Our mothers have become friends," Neena said, thankfully breaking the silence. "I hope we will be too".

 I smile, beginning to hope so too. Maybe this will not be so bad after all. I find myself still not knowing quite to say, so I begin to look around the room, trying to notice my surroundings. The rows of pews. The high ceiling. The pillars along the outer walls. The ever-present, veil-like curtains covering the windows. The statue of the First of the Glorified, illuminated with Vialae, front and center, directly behind the line of Bishops. Do not look at the Bishops. I find noticing as many details of my surroundings as I can helps me feel less nervous. Besides, the Assemblage hall is the closest thing Dema has to a beautiful place, with its grand, moulded-ceilinged arch under which the Bishops stand, the alcove for the statue, the tall pillars and the floor, tiled with a pattern of a compass. 

Behind me, I hear a mother saying "-Now Arianne, do try to speak to others. It pleases our glorious Bishop to have a region that works well together." I am very familiar with this lecture and find myself turning to give Arianne a sympathetic look. She rolls her eyes back. Her mother has moved on to fussing with her tightly coiled dark curls. Hair-messing is another thing I am very familiar with, and I'm surprised to find myself feeling a connection to Arianne as well. Her shirt is surprisingly pretty for the typically plain things here, and is a nice shade of gray that suits her brown skin. I open my mouth to compliment her, but her mother glares at me and whispers something into her daughter's ear. I remember my smeared neck, feeling self-conscious. Suddenly, I feel Neena poke me.

"Look at her!" she whispers, pointing. "She's so pretty!"

 The girl in question is standing across the aisle, a few rows behind us. She is very tall and slender, with hair somewhere between blond and brown that is almost as wild as mine, high cheekbones, and a slightly mischievous face. Her eyes are a striking green, and I'm suddenly sure I know her from somewhere. But that is not possible. I do not remember ever seeing her before. Her eyes wander around the room, and suddenly fix on me. I am sure that she is staring straight through me, and her eyes seem to suggest that she knows something I don't. There is something in her stare that makes me feel uneasy somehow, and I look away, wanting to avoid the questions I can see on her face. The formal Assemblage is about to begin, anyway. The whole hall goes silent, and you can almost feel the anticipation in the air. The Bishops arrange themselves into a semicircle, chanting. Praying for those who were lost. Vialae are prepared, special ones that become Monuments of Exhaltation. The Rituals of Exhaltation are performed, and more blessings are said over the Glorified. The Bishops' cloaks swish around them as they move. They speak of the Glorified, of their devotion to Vialism, how the city gives life, how life is given to the city. How they have served their Bishops well, and how they will have their eternal peace, free from any kind of pain. How they will never be forgotten for their ultimate show of dedication to the Vialist teachings. 

I'm not sure I completely trust the Nine the way others seem to, and Vialism doesn't always make sense to me, sometimes seeming like the worship of pointlessness, but it is at times like these I understand how so many devotedly hold onto these beliefs. A fog rises around the Bishops, moving about the new Monument, waving their arms as they chant a blessing. Their faces seem wise and ancient, powerful, vaguely visible from behind filmy white. The teachings they preach are strangely reassuring. It is near-impossible to take my eyes off their intricate rituals. They promise life without pain. I nearly begin to believe it. 

They can save us, they say. They know the way. All we need do is follow. Even Nico seems less frightening, somehow. We will be taken care of. And when we are gone, we will truly be free, and always remembered. 

They gather around the cement basin for the water-rituals. They watch the way the water swirls, gleaning insight from its movement. They believe it tells of coming happenings, and check the basins daily. For the Annual Assemblage, it marks the end of the ceremony. It will have gone late into the afternoon, and the inhabitants of Dema are encouraged to spend the evening after sundown in the Necropolis, to honor those lost. I always dread visits to the Necropolis. It is eerily beautiful, with its rows of glowing monuments, each representing a once-living soul, but something about the place puts me on edge. It feels peaceful, but like it would keep you forever if you let it. My mother takes me there pretty regularly, anyway, to visit my aunt Gloriana. I have never been exactly sure why. My mother never seemed to be particularly fond of her sister. Probably, she brings me there so she can lecture me, which is something she is, in fact, fond of doing. 

But something about today is different. Nico's face changes first, like he sees something in the water that angers him. All nine turn to the door, simultaneously, and everyone's eyes follow them. The water swirls faster, and the Vialae seem to flicker. The Bishops face each other, seeming to silently converse. They walk down the aisle, two-by-two, lead by Nico. As they pass, I strain to listen, managing to catch snippets of their words.

 "-couldn't have gone far-"

 "-Find her-"

 "-always seemed so well-behaved-"

 "-out of hand-"

 And finally, to Keons, seemingly staring directly at me: "-never let her find out- already tried-" "-Nico, that can't be proved-"  

"-Let her fool you, she obviously cannot be trusted-"

Nico waved his hand to dismiss us, but we all sat there for a few moments, stunned by the break of routine. Almost none were genuinely curious. I wanted to know what happened so badly, I thought the not-knowing would crush me. What had happened? Was it related to my smearing? Would Nico find a way to blame me for this? Knowing him, probably. I made the mistake of making eye contact again with the strange, green eyed girl and her eyes seemed to burn. I quickly looked away. Beside me, Neena was staring wide-eyed at the door, confused. Without looking behind me, I knew that Arianne's expression was likely a similar one. People had begun to leave. My mother glared but, finding no obvious way to blame me for this mysterious happening, gestured to the door. She pushed through the small crowd as I followed, astonished. I had never seen this much chaos before. I never imagined there could be chaos. Not here, with our straight lines, neat rows and stark Vialae. As I struggle to follow my mother, I nearly bump into the green-eyed girl. Of course. How does she manage to seem to be everywhere? She stares in that same unnerving way. 

"What do you WANT?!" I demand. She doesn't answer, instead walking away to talk in a hushed voice to a boy several years older. I shake my head and keep walking. My mother is waiting. I will not let this strange girl get me into any more trouble. I know I have not seen her before today, but something in me insists that she has somehow been associated with trouble before, and that is exactly what I don't need right now.

The Necropolis does not open today. People begin to wonder. The Bishops huddle around the edge of the city the next few days, and some are not seen at all. They try to keep everything quiet, but soon the stories spread, anyway.

They say someone escaped. A girl. In her fifteenth year, just like me. Nobody knows which region she is from though many rumors say Keons'.

Silly girl. There is nothing out there. She will never survive. And if the Bishops find her, by some miracle alive, she will be punished, severely. If she's not alive, she'll be returned for the vultures. There is no leaving.

So, why would she go? 

What did she think she would find?


	12. Chapter 12

I sleep. Morning comes. I rise. It is time for lessons. I had been dreading this for days. They had ceased briefly, as they always did, for the Glorious Month, but after yesterday's Annual Assemblage, ending this sacred month, they were to resume again. It wasn't that anything we studied was hard, exactly. I was always able to complete all tasks I learned fairly easily and had  always been one of the best students in my class. It was more that everything we were taught had a dullness to it, and I often tired of it. Strange how tasks that others seemed to accomplish with minimal effort always seemed to take so much out of me. I tended to be dragged by the weight of it, and I wondered if this monotonous repeating of tasks was all there would ever be. 

That  thought invariably drew me back to the question if there was any point to any of this. I half-believed there wasn't, and on some days began to believe it completely. The Nine, and my mother, and all of the others who taught us to live a glorious life did not say much to dissuade me of this belief, and what I  was told, I did not find all that convincing. Even  Keons, wise Keons, who I trusted most, never truly reassured me of any real purpose for my existence, stating that we lived for the teachings of Vialism. And what is the point of Vialism? I sometimes wished that  this belief in The Nine and their teachings that seemed to be enough for everyone else could be enough for everyone else could just be enough for me, too, while also wondering how the others never questioned. I sometimes envied them that. It must be so much more painless, not feeling as though nothing ever mattered. Why could I not be satisfied with this life I was given? Why did it all feel so hollow?  That strange, uncomfortable feeling returns to my throat, taking up  residence there. When I really think about it, I can't remember it ever not being there, though it gets more  intense with smearings,  and even  more so when my thoughts darken, like the sky  before a rare storm, unusual and dangerous. I tried, as usual, to convince myself there was some point to this. There must be. Otherwise, I wasn't sure I could go on.

I was unsure how long it was, lost  in my  head, when my mother began calling  for me. I dressed, grabbed what I would need, and prepared to leave. Another glorious day. I started to walk out the door, only to hear my  mother call me back.

 "I will walk you to your studies today.  The Bishops have ordered that no youth should leave their apartment of residence without an adult to escort them. We do not want another incident." 

She glares at my neck again. Glorious, now even what little liberty there was is gone. I hope that it was worth it for that girl, her freedom. Any semblance of it is gone now from here. A part of me does not blame this mysterious girl, maybe not so different from me. After all, do I not, too, feel trapped by this place? If faced with an opportunity, would I go, too? Was anything even out there? But these are dangerous thoughts, and I must not even entertain them. Soon, I was sure, she would be brought back. It was impossible to leave Dema. Whatever happened would soon be put to rights. The  Bishops may show her mercy. And in time, with more mercy, residents would once again be free to walk about their regions freely. My mother made an impatient sound, and I  realized I had once again gotten lost in my mind. This has best not  be permanent. I do not know how much of this I can stand. 

As we walk, my mother talks about one of her favorite topics, how through studies and understanding of what I am taught, students bring pride to their Bishops and their regions and how in her eyes I do not work hard enough and if I do not work harder, I will never be any source of such pride. I think that it is perhaps not possible for Nico to be proud of anyone, and I think that my mother is seeming to get a lot of pleasure from this newly-sanctioned excuse to push her way into yet more of my few quiet moments that would otherwise be free of such intrusion, but I do not say either of those things. Instead, I merely say yes , taking care not to let my frustration show, and she continues to talk. Her voice feels abrasive, somehow hurting some part of my brain. By the time we arrived in the lesson-hall, I felt almost glad to be there. I greeted the lecturer, a typical worn-looking woman who would one day join the Exhalted Ranks Of The Glorified, chose a seat next to Neena, and willed my mother not to linger too long. Thankfully, in the first and possibly only bit of luck I would get today, she left after I took my seat. I let out a sigh, and Neena looked at me questioningly.

"I just feel so... trapped by everything", I say, immediately wishing I could take it back. That is just how it is, here. Foolish to even think anyone would understand. Luckily, Neena barely notices, already half-distracted. 

"I wish we could go outside. The weather is decent today, and I'd much rather walk around. Much more pleasant than this stuffy room." I wholeheartedly agree, glad to find someone who dislikes being cooped up as much as I do. 

"Maybe we'll get to go outside to get some fresh air. Though who knows, with these new rules. And if we do, I'm sure we will be closely watched every second, and that will almost ruin it," I say.  

"True. Yesterday's assemblage was weird," she says. "I can't believe someone really got out of the city. I wonder what it's like out there." 

I shrug. "Probably just a lot more of nothing." 

I don't know why, but I find I do not want to talk about it. I noticed Arianne has arrived, and is standing awkwardly by the door. I gesture to her to sit in the empty seat at my other side and introduce her to Neena. As the two talk, I survey the room.  A few familiar faces, but most I have never seen before. The lecturer closes the door and everyone goes quiet as she takes her place at the front of the room.  As she prepares to begin, the door flies open and the odd girl with the green eyes bursts in. She looks as if she has just rolled out of her bed. How was she allowed out of her apartment like this?  

"Please, sit down, we were just about to start," said the lecturer. To my dismay, the newcomer sat down directly across the room from me. "And please try to not be tardy again in the future," she scolded.

 "Yes, er-"

 "Marian," she said. "On that note, let us all introduce ourselves. You may start, please."

 "Chlorine," the girl replied. 

As the other students went around, standing and saying their names, Chlorine stared right at me, not even attempting to hide it. I felt  exposed, somehow, and didn't notice it was my turn to stand  and say my name until Neena elbowed me. Marian tapped her foot. 

"Carnation", I murmured. 

"Louder please." 

"Carnation," I almost yell. For some reason, Chlorine smiles a bit at this. "Carnation," she mouths, as if testing it on her tongue. I glare at her. Why is she so interested in me? 

"Be mindful of your tone, Carnation," Marian warns, and I glare at the floor. She leads a prayer, and then begins today's lessons.  I try to focus, but my mind  keeps wandering. I feel like I'm caught in a haze, and  everything that I sense must seep through it to reach me. Nico would certainly not be proud. To make matters  worse, Chlorine is still staring. I resolve to ignore her. I force my mind to focus on Marian's words. I am able to retain some of what she said, and it is enough to complete  the day's task on what was learned. I am exhausted.

 

I sleep. Morning comes. I rise. My mother walks me to the lesson-hall. I  sit. Neena and I commiserate about our inabilities to focus. Arianne and I are both tired. Chlorine combs through her hair with her fingers, rolls her eyes nearly imperceptibly, taps on the desk with her pen. Marian talks. We listen. We complete our tasks.  We will bring pride to our Bishop. We will bring glory to our city.

 

Days pass. My neck fades from black to gray, lighter and lighter.  The strange haze I am in fades to  a clearer dullness. This is all there is, these monotonous days, barely distinguishable. Is this all there will ever be?

I sleep. Morning comes. I rise. I talk to Neena and Arianne until it  is time to listen. I can almost focus, can almost drown out everything, even my head. Even those green eyes that seem to see  through everything, that lately seem as though they had thought they saw something inside of me that turned out to not be there, after all. I wouldn't be surprised. Sometimes, I wonder if there is anything inside of me at all. 

I complete the tasks set before me with ease, and I barely  feel tired anymore. I have gone past the point where  I feel it. I am not quite human, these days. I am something different, something hollow and dull and heavy-hearted. My mother complains that I am too quiet, that I lack energy. Is that not what she wanted? 

 If my spirit is like a Vialae, as the  Bishops say, it is burning dimly these days.

Finally, we are allowed to walk alone again. The day the restrictions are lifted, I set off to find Keons. I have not seen him since the Assemblage, and though I have felt particularly weak and exhausted today, I am eager for his gentle, comforting presence. Maybe he can help me understand some of this strangeness. When I talk to him, he is as warm as always, but he seems distant. Though he is  known for being the most forthright of the Nine, he doesn't truly answer any of my questions. He congratulates me on my hard work and is then mostly quiet, as if he knows he cannot tell me what  I need. As I say goodbye to Keons, preparing to head to his library, hoping to lose myself in a book, he asks if I am well. I seem not quite like myself, he says. 

"You're not the only one who thinks so," I say "But I think I'm fine." In all honesty, I am not sure. My mother has continued to complain that I am acting oddly. If it were just her, I  wouldn't think much of it. She nearly always has something to complain about. Lately, though, even Neena and Arianne have noticed something off. Chlorine always looks concerned too, not that anything I do is her business. The trouble is, I do not know how I act that would be considered acting like myself. I barely know who I am most of the time, let alone how I act, sos it all feels the same to me. Sometimes I'm so unsure who I really, truly am that it  discourages me to the point where I wish I did not exist at all. Why do all these people presume to know who I am, when I don't even know, myself? Still, I feel sure that if anyone has the vaguest idea, it would have to be Keons.

"Carnation?" He lightly touches a hand to my forehead. "You are  burning up, child! Go back home and get some rest." Home. I've  always hated that word. It's supposed to sound  comforting, cozy, but I've always found it to be a rather ugly word. "Home" to me has  always connoted a feeling of being trapped, smothered. 

"I'm fine," I insisted, trying to leave the room, even as everything begins to feel more unsteady than it should, even as my vision fades out around the edges,  as the feeling of vague wrongness that has been there all day expanded, filled me until it couldn't be ignored. My vision goes dark  for a moment, and I nearly fall. Keon's face  is more concerned  than I have ever seen it, with the exception of the moment he learned of the escape. 

"Let me get you home, my child," he says in a gentle voice.

My mother gripes at first,  acting like my illness is a personal disappointment to her, but is finally forced to admit this is not something she or any Bishop can control and lets me rest. I lie in my bed, barely moving, for two days. At one point, I awaken to find that my hands have darkened as I slept and bury myself under the blanket in shame, quickly falling back asleep. The next morning, I have regained some of my energy and my mother tells me I must return to my lessons. I do.

Days continue to pass, miserably slowly, and yet strangely fast, none too different from each other. I am glad, at least, for Arianne and Neena. They make things a bit less lonely. I try hard to keep my unwanted power under control. A few times, I lose control and my hands begin to go gray. I pray no one notices.

One day, Neena invites me to walk with her in the courtyard outside after lessons. I am glad not to have to go right home, where there are more cracks for the dark thoughts to creep in. It is a nice change of pace, and I feel the closest thing to freedom that I can remember feeling in so long. The hollowness almost goes away, and I find I can nearly forget it, just for one afternoon. 

Nico oversees our lessons the next day. It is typical for the Bishops to be present at our classes periodically, to see our progress and for an opportunity for us to show him our abilities. He  glares the whole time, looking most displeased by me and Chlorine. He points out every mistake that I make, and I force myself not to cry. I am not weak. The only people he seemed proud of were Darlena, Joelle and Nyx. Unsurprising, as they were all nearly as hard, sharp and mean as he is. I am, too, in my own way, but I keep it hidden more.  Fear it almost. Maybe everyone in his region has at least a touch of his mean spirit.

 My mother sometimes wonders if I even have a heart. I think if I did, it turned to stone long ago. Hearts are a weakness, anyway. Still, some part of me regrets my coldness. Another part thinks that if heart is  what she wants, she should not have brought me into such a heartless place. 

I feel I am not enough. It wouldn't matter what I did, anyway. Here, you can never be enough. That is one thing they will never let you forget.

Before I know it, it has been months since the Assemblage. The girl who escaped is never so much as mentioned, anymore. It was almost as if she'd simply been forgotten. I wondered if she had  died, or if she had somehow made it out there. I wanted to ask what had become of her, but  I knew better than to so much as mention her.

I tried desperately to ignore Chlorine, but she continued to mystify me. She mostly seems to be  alone, even if she's with her group of friends. She has some peculiar sort of power that draws others in, and most of the class tries to befriend her, though she maintains an aloofness that only seems to make people more interested in her. She seems to be the only person Nico hates more than me. It turns out she was from Reisdro's region, originally. How she ended up here, I have no idea. It is rare for anyone living in one region to be relocated to another, especially at such a young age, though she does not seem to have parents. She is a year older than I am. 

Arianne says she does not understand what exactly is so special about her. I agree. She makes me ill at ease, the way she stares like she is seeing right into see, seeing everything I so struggle to hide. There is something else too, that, for the lack  of a better word I will call arrogance. It is maybe not arrogance, not exactly. I find it hard to explain, it is so uncommon in Dema, but the best I can say is that  she always appears to genuinely be comfortable with and take pride in who she is as a person. The Bishops would certainly call it vanity, arrogance, so I will too. Whatever it is called, it seems unnatural.

Lately there is something else in her eyes too, something that I cannot put a  name to. Something that I can somehow feel. Whatever it is scares me. It feels almost like being smeared, looking into her eyes, and I wonder if she doesn't have Bishops abilities too. If she does, they are different than most Bishops I have encountered. When I look into Nico's eyes, I feel cold all over, while Chlorine makes me feel oddly warm. That uncommon charisma must be a part of her powers, as well. That would explain why I can never seem to block her out like I wish I could.

I sleep. Morning comes. I rise. I am so very tired, now, and I find  myself wishing everything would just... end, for  awhile. It felt as though there was nearly nothing of me left. If my spirit were a Vialae, it would have nearly gone out. Once, tired of Darlena's constant needling, I snap at her. I know my hands are darkening, but for once I don't care, covering them with my shirt's too-long sleeves. This is  the  first time I have ever lashed out like this, and I find It's quite satisfying and almost cleansing. Unfortunately, this unlikely sense of relief was short-lived, seeming to wash off with the dark shadow on my hands. It was harder to wash off, this time, and I feared one day it would be a permanent, unremovable part of me.

When I return, Darlena has talked to Marian, spinning the story to appear as though she is a victim of my constant cruelty, of which the recent happenings were merely the latest example. Marian lectures me, and Darlena carries on so theatrically that Nico is fetched. As I sit in terror, waiting, she flashes me  a smug look and I resist the urge to slap her. When Nico arrives, having been told of what has occurred, he looks  at me with something near pride. It feels somehow worse than his disdain. What am I becoming?


	13. Interlude: The Girl Who Is Not  Carnation, And The Place That Is Not Dema

A girl who is not Carnation walks on a winding, rocky path. Beside her, a trickle of water moves alongside her. She has never seen anything like this before. Water, as she had known it up until not that long ago, was contained in basins and cups, used for drinking and washing and Bishops' ceremonies, not flowing freely through the ground like this. It must have flowed here, in this exact spot, for years, for there was now an indent in the stony ground that must have been worn away over time and which had become a passage of sorts for the water to travel along. Occasionally, the girl paused to dip her hand into the cold water, delighting in how it moved through her fingers. This was only one of the wonders of this vast, marvelous place, this whole unknown world outside the towering walls that had seemed so all-encapsulating from inside the city. All around her, majestic cliffs rose, covered by a soft green plant that seemed to grow from the rock, which was somehow a more vibrant shade of gray than she had ever seen. She longed to climb them and see how high she could go. She realized she could, if she wanted to, and an uncontrollable smile spread across her face. There were no Bishops or other disapproving faces to stop her, here. The cliffs seemed to call to her, the wind blowing through whispering secrets of this new place to her as it passed by, whipping her long hair every which way. Growing all around and throughout the stone were all sorts of plants she had never seen before and would never have been able to name, and she saw colors that she had rarely seen before. She had never realized how colorless Dema was before. There were even flowers of an unusual color she was sure she had never seen before in her life. Upon closer inspection, she saw that they were a similar strange off-color Vialae shade to the sun.

She laughed, now, to think that she had once thought that the walled municipality from which she had came was all there was. Honestly, until one fateful afternoon, she had not given much thought to anything beyond those walls. Sure, they may feel confining at times, but that was just how it was. How it would be for the rest of her life, she thought, until the day she ventured to the library, intending to collect a book on Vialism that Keons had suggested she read. When the caretaker of the library noticed the girl, she called her over. "I found something that might interest you, Carnation," she said absently. The girl's name was really Aster, not Carnation, but she would never correct the old woman. She had mistaken Aster's name before, and Aster figured that Carnation must be some poor, long-lost soul. 

Indeed, Aster barely noticed that the name the forgetful woman had said was not her own, too puzzled and intrigued by the book that had been handed to her. It was small and untitled, and something about it and about the caretaker's tone implied that it was not meant to be seen. It was, she thought, the most interesting thing that had happened too her in- well, in as long she could remember. Her original purpose forgotten, she hid the book under her shirt and rushed back to her apartments, eager to shut herself in her room and discover what secrets might be hidden between these unassuming covers. She did not realize, yet, how what she would soon learn would alter everything she had previously believed to be true.

The book was a diary, belonging to a boy named Clancy, who had also lived in Keons' region, about ten years before. In it, he wrote of his dissatisfaction with Dema, and how he had escaped. Before, Aster had thought she was content. Her life was dependable, if not a little dull, and while Keons was strict, she knew he would not hurt her and believed he even cared about her. Now, she saw how trapped she was, how the Bishops have trapped every soul in this city with the easy lie of Vialism. She read Clancy's descriptions of a whole world existing outside the world she thought she knew, and she longed to see it. Even the Banditos, which she had alway thought were myth, turned out to be real.

She noticed a pattern with capitalization of certain seemingly random letters in some entries, and absences of letters in others. It always ended up forming the same phrase, time after time. "EAST IS UP," it always, inevitably spelled. "EAST IS UP". But what did that mean? East. She pored over her map of the city, and searched through the journal for any clues. That must be the way out, Aster thought. The Annual Assemblage would be the next day, just like it was in the journal, 10 years ago. She would leave then, while everyone else in the entire city was in the Assemblage Hall, busy watching the ceremonies. She always was good at slipping through unnoticed. She packed a bag with everything she thought she would need and was careful to pack plenty to eat, remembering one of Clancy's pitfalls being hunger. She would run out eventually, but she would cross that bridge when she got to it. She had done all she could. Besides, these Banditos had to have some sort of food, right? Finally, realizing there was nothing else she could do and that her parents were probably looking for her, she was forced to go about the rest of her day like normal. It was the longest evening and night of her life.

The next morning was even more agonizing, if that was possible. She had barely slept, her mind occupied by a mix of fear and excitement about what was to come. Visions of everything she would see and experience, but also of everything that could go wrong. She knew how risky her plan was. And yet, somehow, it was successful. There had, apparently, been some sort of issue with a girl in Nico's region, and all eyes were focused there. As her family made their way to the Assemblage Hall, Aster slowly fell behind them, finally losing them altogether. She made sure to conceal herself, doubling back to her apartments to fetch her bag, knowing she had very little time, knowing she would never come back. She hurried as fast as she could, lower and lower underground and east, toward where the sun rises, until she discovered an unusual door. She tested it. There was a small wooden wedge stuck in it, and it opened easily, revealing a tunnel, old but well-maintained. Her intuition told her that this was what she was looking for, and it was correct. She went deeper and deeper, until finally, she saw light coming in. She would never forget her first view of the outside, through the opening in the cliff face where the tunnel ended, but only paused for a brief moment to enjoy the view. She knew her journey was far from over, and that she must be very careful. Clancy was found and brought back at one point, and she vowed that would not happen to her. As soon as possible, she got to work exploring the network of caves among the cliffs, planning to stay there until everyone in Dema gave up on her being found.

And stay there she did, until the clip-clopping of Bishops' horses grew less frequent and eventually ceased. Since then, she has walked every day, following the flowing water and the rising sun. She is often tired, but there is so much to see, so much that is different, that she almost forgets. Besides, even the exhaustion feels more real somehow, then anything else she has ever experienced. She walks, and walks, and walks, only pausing to eat or to sleep for a few hours in a cave, until she stumbles across a few people walking from the opposite direction, all dressed in green, with patterns to better blend in with their surroundings. They would nearly be successful, save for stripes of that unfamiliar sun-color adorning their clothes or worn on their heads. Aster goes to them. She is not afraid. They take her to their camp and sit her next to a strange Vialae lamp that feels warm. She has not realized how cold she was. She reaches toward the pleasant, warm Vialae. 

"Do not touch that," scolds a Bandito girl who looks to be around her age. She has brought Aster food and water. "You will burn."

 "Oh," she says, "Thank you. I didn't know." 

"Yeah, I imagine you don't have this in Dema. There are a lot of things that are different out here. If you need help with anything, let me know."

The Banditos were so kind and welcoming. They treated Aster like one of them, and even added some of the bright stripes to her clothes. They taught her about things like fire and yellow. She was grateful for their generosity, but couldn't shake the vague idea that it wasn't her that was meant to have received Clancy's diary, to journey out here. While she was out here, someone, somewhere, was still trapped in those encircling walls, suffocating. She remembered the girl from Nico's region who had caused a minor commotion before Aster's departure, and somehow knew she had been trying to escape, too. Maybe she was the book's rightful recipient. Maybe, this girl Carnation wasn't long gone after all. It wasn't fair, Aster thought, how some made it out and some were still trapped in that lifeless place. She decided, however, to stop worrying about who was meant to receive Clancy's diary. The Banditos believed that he had left it so someone, anyone, could learn the truth. They were just relieved that there were people in Dema who saw this was no way to live. Aster hoped so. There was so much more out there then she ever knew, and she hoped others would not have to feel so trapped.


	14. Chapter 14

Again, another day. Always another day. No matter how hard I try, I cannot seem to be glad to open my eyes and rise, to live another day. I wish the days would just... stop, for awhile. I wish for nothingness. I wish to have no tasks to complete, though I also dread being at home, almost preferring my studies to those cramped rooms and my mother, prying into me until I feel my life is not in the least bit truly my own. 

I am not wrong. It is not. I am picked at, watched, needled, until it feels there is nothing left of me, and even then it does not stop. There are eyes everywhere. My mother's,  Nico's, and where neither of them are, tiny, sharp, stone-like vulture eyes.  They call them the Watchers. The Watchers are their eyes. They surround the city, perching on every roof or available surface. They are perhaps the most horrible of all. Pitiless, hungry, they know that one day they will have their fill of our flesh, and they watch and they wait.  The watchers take our flesh, the Necropolis our bones, the Bishops our souls, and this city our days.  Nothing  is ours, not at all. It is all theirs.

At lessons, there are still more eyes. Darlena and her followers, with glittering eyes not so much  unlike the Watchers. Chlorine, with her searching gaze, infinitely less hateful but so much more confusing.  Though several moons have passed, I still wonder what  it is about me that attracted  her attention. Maybe, like the vultures, she can sniff out death. Maybe I am dying. I wouldn't  be surprised, honestly. I have always thought that this place kills us slowly.

As this thought passes through my head, Chlorine tilts her head toward me, as if she heard what I was thinking. It couldn't be, could it? No, Chlorine may be odd sometimes, but even she couldn't possibly read minds. I hoped I hadn't said it out loud. I am always scared that my  thoughts will be betrayed. No one can know what goes through my head. They will think I am crazy, and if the Bishops found out, I might be smeared again. I cannot be smeared again. Then I may lose my  thoughts,  and while I fear them sometimes, they are all I have.

Eyes watching, watching, watching and never-ending tasks that seemed, at least to  me, to have  no  point. This was all life was. Was this all it  would ever be? Perhaps it would. The idea of it was perhaps the most hateful thing of all, and yet it seemed this was all there would ever be, forever and ever as long as I breathed, as  long as my heart beat, if I even had one. If  it was, why did I live? Was I living? Or have I just been dying since I was born? I look around. No one seems troubled by this at all. "Wake up," I want to scream to them all. "Wake up! You're dying."  I imagine shaking  them as hard as I can,  until their eyes roll back into their heads and return to their proper place with the lifeless haze that fills them lifted.  We are all dying, and we are trapped, and no one seems  to notice. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that some of them were already dead. Might as well be, I think to myself. 

I shake my head hard, instead. I must not think this way. And suddenly, the hatred rises up again.  It fills me until I feel nothing else. It is like a physical thing inside of me that grows until it blocks everything.  It feels thick and slimy inside of me, toxic, and I think I must be made of poison to have something so terrible living in my body. It is small and mean, usually, living in the darkest places inside, but now it rises. It is hungry, now, and the only thing that will satisfy it is if I let it take over, let some of it out onto another. The blackness will leech through my skin and cover me if I let it. It begs to be let out, reminds me how good the release feels. I try my hardest to push it down. It would be disastrous if I let this... this thing get out of control. Nico, my mother, even Keons must never know what noxious blackness lies where my heart should be. A little trick of this rare power of mine is that the darkness of the hands of those who wield it tends to cause people to forget, but I am still not about to risk it. Besides, for me, the guilt that comes afterward lingers, and  even the satisfaction of release after losing control is not worth that. Sometimes, I don't know what I despise more: the blackness or the guilt.

I try as best I can to push it down. I know from experience what happens when it is allowed to escape, and let's just say I'm very glad for the whole memory-modifying aspect of this thing. Too bad it doesn't work on me, too. I push and push, but it is too strong. Everything around me suddenly feels very wrong, somehow, and the room feels even more confining than usual. Nothing can hold what is inside of me, and most of all, it hates me fore trying. Somehow, I get the feeling that if it didn't  need a body to call home, it would kill me without  a second  thought. It knows that I am weak, and it resents it as much as something that needs the thing it so hates can. The sounds around me seem many times louder, more irritating than usual, and I imagine destroying the source of each voice, each breath, one by one, until only a black-smothered silence remains. No. No. This is very bad. Get ahold of yourself, Carnation.  

It has become evident that there is no chance of the blackness giving up, this time. I leave the room, my last show of control before it takes over. I hear  footsteps following me and take off faster, shutting myself in the first empty room I see. The door slams  behind me and now the darkness both surrounds and fills me. The walls feel even closer, threatening to crush me, but at least it is silent, and I am alone. I wait. This is always the worst part. The darkness,  with nowhere else to go will smother me instead, but at least it doesn't win here. Not completely. 

Just when it becomes the worst, when it feels as though it has taken every breath of air from me, when I wonder if I might die, this time, I hear a pounding at the door. "Carnation! Are you alright?" Chlorine. Of course. Just what I need right now. How dare she follow me? How dare she ask if I'm ok? No one ever cares. She probably doesn't, either. For a moment, I imagine the darkness closing around her soft, pale throat and am immediately left with shame. I hate it. I hate her. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" I scream, louder than I knew I was capable of, scaring even myself. "JUST GO!" I  hear her leave, and I know I  am once again alone. 

When I finally regain myself, I slip back into class,  hoping no one noticed my absence. No such luck. 

"You must not leave class without permission again," Marian scolds. Darlena and her friends snicker. As soon as I sit down, I hear her begin to whisper to Joelle.

 "-crazy-"

 "-probably dangerous-"

 "-disgrace-" 

"Well, the vultures will get her soon, anyway. Should have long ago if you ask me." I feel the urge to slap her, to kick her, to do anything that will make her feel some sort of pain, but I cannot have any more trouble with Darlena right  now. Instead, I sigh and try to ignore her. 

"Are you alright?" Arianne asks tentatively. I do not want to talk.

 "That creep Chlorine was bothering her again," says Neena. "Look at her. She's staring right now." I didn't even have  to look to know that was  true, I could practically feel her eyes burning into me.

 "Anyway, I think she wants to be left alone right now," Neena added, subtly mouthing "Talk to me later?" I nodded. 

I expected that that to be the end for now, but Neena wasn't done. She  swiveled in her seat and glared menacingly at Chlorine. 

"My friend wants you to leave her alone! I don't want to see you staring at her again, do you understand?" I wanted to disappear. Chlorine's staring might be weird, but this really was not necessary right now. 

"If she has a problem, she can talk to me about it herself," Chlorine replied. "Do you want to talk to me, Carnation?"  She winked at me. Neena was  furious, and I could have sworn I saw something familiar in her eyes. 

"You need to stop being such a creep," she says. "Why are you so obsessed with Carnation?" Chlorine turns an unusual  shade of dark red and looks down at the table. 

"And why do you care, Neena?" she asks in a strange, icy, frightening voice. "Doesn't seem like any of your business."

"Do not talk to me like that." Neena's voice was equally terrifying. 

Marian clapped her hands. The sound was startling to all three of us. 

"That is enough, Carnation. You have continued to cause disturbances today, and you are disgracing us all. What do you have to say for yourself?" 

"I... uh.." What could I say? I couldn't explain what had happened, and now everyone's eyes were on me, exactly what I had wanted to avoid. 

"Yes, Carnation?" I wouldn't cry. I wouldn't. I was not weak. 

My face quivered, anyway. I couldn't talk, not like this.

"Would you like to tell Nico about it, instead?"

"It...It was my fault. I'm sorry. I was bothering her and she asked me to stop."

"Is this true, Chlorine?"

"It is. I swear on the Nine themselves."

"You understand that if you keep up this behavior, Reisdro will be informed."

I have never seen Chlorine look this small before. Irritated, yes, but she always seemed above everything, somehow. Now she almost looked afraid. 

"Yes. It will not happen again"

"See that it doesn't, Chlorine." She gives me a long  look, evidently still not completely sold on this story. I hold my breath.

"Carnation?" I nod, relieved. 

Marian continues with her lessons.  I realize I am tired. I have not been sleeping  much, lately. While the brightness of the Vialae, lit even through the night has never bothered me before, recently the glow has seemed to penetrate my eyelids and take residence somewhere behind my eyes, keeping me from sleep. Now, I have to fight to keep my eyes open. Everything she says goes through my head, and I find myself unable to understand any of it. When it is time to demonstrate what we have learned, I keep making mistakes. I am relieved when the day is finally over. I hope that my mother  does not feel like asking a lot of questions today, and I pray that this night  brings me sleep. 

I am one of the last to leave the room. Neena walks beside me. I am still not sure I am ready to forgive her for what  happened earlier, quite yet. I can tell she knows that, too. When we are alone, and no other students walk near  us, she stops and leans in to whisper something to me. I am expecting it to be some sort of plea for forgiveness, so I'm shocked when I hear her actual words.

"I know what happened to you earlier. It's ok. I won't tell Nico. "

She looked at me and gestured to her hands, slowly, unmistakably. Then, quieter, so softly I can barely hear her:

"I have it too."


	15. Chapter 15

She can't mean it, I keep thinking. She can't possibly. There is no way. She doesn't really know what is happening. Maybe she just means she gets overwhelmed by everything sometimes, too. That has been known to have happened before. Sometimes things just become too much, and people break down. Maybe that is what she means. And while embarrassing, and typically a quicker path to the Necropolis, it may still be less dangerous then the truth...

 

I saw how she gestured at her hands, though. To me, it was instantly clear what she meant. Still, could she have seen me? If she saw, could others have seen, too? My mind goes to Chlorine -Why, why, does she get inside my head like this?-, and I hope yet again that she does not know as much about me as her eyes seem to say. 

Can I trust Neena? Or is this a setup? In a few days, will I find myself "mysteriously" taken away by Nico? What would happen to me if he found out? If he knew that somewhere, deep down, he and I were not so different after all? Not odd little Carnation, a quiet girl who, despite nearly always doing what she was told, had something just a little off about her that she couldn't quite seem to hide. Not the weak, frightened girl who was always a little small for her age, who cried when she wished she wouldn't, who shrunk when made to face him, but a Bishop herself. And was this what I wanted to be, truly? 

A Bishop. I could barely bring myself to even think the words, much less ever say them out loud. I would never have to be weak again. But I knew that once the truth was out, there would be no turning back. And who was to say I would not still be tormented? Perhaps I would be fed to the vultures on sight. It would seem I wasn't completely one with whatever it was inside me, anyway. I am an abomination. Half Bishop, half girl. The blackness inside me was repulsed by its vessel, and the weaker part of me shrank from the blackness. And, yet, were the Bishops not merely vessels, too, for this unknown power? What commanded it? The Bishops themselves? Or did it command them? Vialism worshipped containment, order. Did it all originate from the learned containment of this power that must flow through each of The Glorious Nine? Could I learn to contain it, too?

Most importantly, who could I trust? Certainly not Nico. And though she is becoming my closest friend, my first close friend, I am not sure about Neena, either. Not yet. After too many years of learning not to trust anyone, trust does not come easy. Maybe soon. Unfortunately, it would seem I did not have the luxury of time. This power was sliding out of my control, fast, and I feared it would only worsen if I didn't figure out what to do about it, and fast.

"Carnation? Whatever are you doing out there?" Without even realizing it, I had made it home. I was in no mood for my mother's usual prying questions, but I couldn't avoid them without arousing more suspicion. I managed to make it through the barrage with as few words as possible, though not few enough to cause her to worry. As soon as I was able, I excused myself and headed to my bedroom to try to get as much privacy as I could. I needed to finish thinking through what I needed to do, and I was not in any mood for company today.

As I walked through the doorframe, black spots appeared in my vision, and I was forced to hold on to the doorframe to stay steady. As soon as my vision cleared, I checked to make sure my mother had not seen, and would not disturb me. Luckily, she was too engrossed in a Vialist text to notice, and I quickly slipped inside and closed the door before she caught sight of me. I begin to wonder if there is a single soul in this whole city I can trust.

Keons. I cannot tell him about what has been happening with me, but I can try to learn more from him about the Bishops and how they use their power. It may be risky but I think, at this point, it's my best option.


	16. Chapter 16

I am going to see Keons. He will know what to do. He is the only one here I can trust. I walk down the hall in a strange  haze, like something long ago. 

My footsteps are drowned out by the clack, clack, clack of a typewriter. A boy who appears to be only a few years older than me sits in a wide windowsill, typing away. He has slightly tan skin like mine, I notice. His hair is straight and black, falling vaguely across his forehead. He does not see me. He has paused his typing, and he is now staring out the window, looking for something that I cannot see.

I try to slip past, as quietly as I can. I feel like I am trespassing, like I am seeing something I shouldn't. It is too late however. He has caught sight of me, now. His eyes are gray, like everything else. 

He is trying to tell me something. But I can't  hear it and I shouldn't hear and he shouldn't say it and I need to get to Keons, now. I don't  know what to do.

I try to open my mouth, feeling the inexplicable need to tell the boy this, though something  tells me he wouldn't listen, anyway. It doesn't matter. I cannot speak. When I try, all that comes out is a blackness that oozes from somewhere deep inside of me. 

It occurs to me that this blackness is the reason I am here.

I barely have time to observe this. I cannot even warn the boy before the blackness grows and swallows us both.


	17. Chapter 17

"CARNATION! Where are you? Come here right now."

A pause. 

Maybe she'll go away.

Please, please go away.

"Oh, Nico, I'm terribly sorry for my daughter's rude behavior. She is probably off daydreaming someplace again. She has been acting so oddly lately." 

"She must be acting very oddly indeed, then. Are you sure she does not hear you and is purposely ignoring you?"

So Nico is here, too. How glorious. Precisely the last person I want to see right now. Though honestly, I was wondering how long it would be until he saw fit to involve himself in the thankless task of trying to figure out what was the matter with me. It wasn't like my mother wasn't constantly nagging on and on about how oddly I was apparently behaving. Knowing Nico,  he probably noticed something was off before even my mother did  and chose to drag this out.  I can only hope that he isn't quite as all-knowing as I've always feared and has not yet discovered what is truly wrong with me. 

Even more annoyingly, he is right about me avoiding my  mother. He always tends to know exactly what I'm  doing, making deceiving him virtually impossible. All the more reason to stay away. If he doesn't already know, he may well be able to sense my  power. I know I will have  to come  out and interact with both of them, but I'm  hoping to avoid it for as long as possible.

"She could be. Wouldn't surprise me."

"No respect, that one. Just like your sister. So what is wrong with her now?"

"Oh, where should I start? The other night I heard her scream in the middle of the night, like she was being attacked. I went to see what all this  was about and saw her lying there completely still, fast asleep. She has been even more silent and sullen than usual. If you say anything to her, she glares at you like you are something the vultures brought in and mumbles as few words as possible. That is, if she doesn't stare at you blankly, like she didn't hear  a word you said, off  in some other world. If you try to get her attention, then, she always snaps at you. You'd think she was being tortured whenever she's asked to do or say something. She's always been difficult, but now she's downright impossible. Ever since-"

"You don't think that she... that she remembers, do you?" If I didn't know better, I'd say  Nico sounded almost afraid.

Remembers? Remembers what?

"I don't think so... but I can't tell. Not with her."

"She's always been irritable. It's  probably nothing to worry about,  but I will get the bottom of this. If she ever comes out of that room of hers. She has probably been hiding in there the whole time, listening."

Does it not occur to people that the reason I'm so irritable is that everyone irritates me?

My mother sighs.  "I'll get her."

"You do keep her windows locked, don't you?" Not that it would make a difference, what with how high it was and the fact that my mother never leaves me alone long enough for me to so much as consider escaping.

Here it goes.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Carnation, I want you to come out here right now. You are disrespecting Nico, and me as well, and I will not tolerate it any longer."

"That will be enough, Mildred. I can handle one little insolent child." He tapped lightly on the door. "For glory's sake, open the door, child."  

He didn't shout. He didn't need to.

"I am not a child!" I fumed.

"Carnation, are you having... difficulties?" Nico asked, as he pushed my door open and swept inside.  My mother tried to follow him, but he shut the door before she could make it inside, almost catching the end of his trailing cloak in the doorway. The temperature seems to suddenly drop significantly and I shiver, first from the shock and then from anger that he would dare force his presence into the one space I'd ever felt was even slightly mine. In my mind, I imagined telling to leave. Telling him I did not want him here, that he had no business being in my space like this and being so condescending besides. That I was not afraid of him. Of course, I do not. He is a Bishop, rumored to be the most ruthless out of the nine, and I was just a foolish child. Besides, I was afraid of him. Terribly so.

I seethed silently as he sat himself on a chair in the corner and idly glanced around the room. It was stark and gray, sparsely furnished, but on my desk were a few books from Keons,  and I had hung a few sketches from particularly boring lessons on the wall over the bed. Resting on my chest of drawers was a dried stalk of Bishopsbane I had collected on a walk one day, thinking it a shame that something so lovely would be destroyed because it dared to grow where it shouldn't. It wasn't its fault it ended up growing here.  

"Are those yours?" he asked, pointing at the drawings.

"Yes, they were just little sketches."

 "For Glory's sake, child. Were you not paying attention during lessons again?" 

My hand clenched into a fist. 

"No, Nico." He saw through that immediately. 

"I do not understand why you cannot pay attention. And for what, a few foolish sketches? I have seen much better, anyway. I shall have to warn Marian to keep a better eye on you. I heard you walked out in the middle of your lesson?"

"I was feeling unwell. You know how I sometimes become suddenly ill."

He scrutinizes me. Does he know? 

"Very well. Try not to cause so many disturbances in the future. Because of you, the whole class was held up."

"Yes, Nico."

Now can you leave? I wish I could ask. I do not. And of course, he does not show any intention of leaving.

"What is this?" Nico demands, having caught sight of the Bishopsbane. So quickly I almost miss it, he crosses the room and picks up the  dried flower.

 "Damned useless weeds." He crushes it in his hand. "They have no place here." I can only sit there with my mouth hanging open as the crumbled little pieces that were once red petals and green leaves fall to the floor.

"What a mess you have made!" he cried. "This is why you should not bring weeds inside. You must clean this up at once. Take those disgraceful scraps off of the wall, too, while you're at it."

_Why don't you clean it up, Nico? Since, oh, you made the mess to begin with?_

I bend down to pick up the remains of my flowers, glad for an excuse to hide the  annoyance that I was sure was written all over my face.

Who did he think he was? Coming into my home, being so terribly destructive, and then passing  it off as my fault?  

_Well. Best not anger him._

"I still have something else to speak to you about."

"Yes?" He knows, my mind screams. He knows. I must not look anxious, that will only fuel his suspicion.

"Do you remember anything about the day before the Annual Assemblage?"

"No. You made sure of that. Besides, that was  quite a few moon cycles ago."

Actually, could you tell me what happened? I fear it was something terrible.

He leans in, close to my face, so he's staring straight into my eyes. I try to duck away, but he holds my face so I cannot move. His hands are cold. I shiver. My hands are always cold, too.

His breath is warm and smells like a room that has been closed up for years, and though I have wished to be somewhere, anywhere else so many times before, I have never wished it  as much as I did at this moment.  "Do not speak to me this way, child. Now, are you sure you do not remember anything?" 

He moves his hands from my face to the sides of my neck, a warning. His eyes burn into mine, and I know he thinks I'm lying.

It doesn't matter. I have said all that I know. 

What does he know? What happened, that day?

Surprisingly, he backs up.

Whatever he knows, he doesn't want to say.

"Well, maybe you will talk to Keons instead."

Keons. I had meant to find him yesterday or today, to find out what I could, but my mother seemed to be watching  me even more closely than usual, and a strange dream had unnerved me so that I was not in any hurry to visit  his region. Still, I must  find answers. If what I suspect to have happened is true, this is so much worse than I thought.  Normally, I would wonder if  Nico would later learn everything that Keons and I would speak of,  but I am almost sure now  that he knows everything. Besides, I will not be talking about anything suspect. I will simply be asking about the roles of the Bishops, in an endeavor to learn more about the workings of our Glorious City. 

Still, I fear Nico is planning something. That he is lying in wait, luring me into a false sense of security only to strike when I least expect it. I will worry about that when it comes, I tell myself, and until then I will stay on alert.

"Oh, foolish girl." He watches my expression, laughing softly. "Of course you will not talk to Keons." He still thinks I'm lying. "I am your Bishop, after all. Keons is not. I do not understand why you seek  him out, and not me."

_What can I say? Because he treats me like a person and you do not?_

"I-"

"You really mustn't wander around like you do. It will only lead to trouble." He watches me like he knows something I do not.

After a few excruciating seconds, he stands and I exhale with relief. Finally, he is done with me. Maybe he has someone else scheduled for him to torment next. At any rate, I am glad this visit  has come to an end. Even though I knew it hadn't been all that long, it felt as though it had been hours.

Of course, however, he is not quite finished, not yet.

"I've heard you have been treating your mother coldly," he says as he makes his way to the door. How like Nico to make his parting remark something guilt-inducing. Doesn't he know most people simply say goodbye? 

"I have done nothing to her."

"Exactly. And you have done nothing for her,  yet she has done so much for you. You could stand to show her a bit more appreciation. You aren't an easy child to raise, after all. 

"That's not-"

"Besides, she is an upstanding citizen of  this region. You could stand to learn a little from her."

With that final admonishment, he lets the door slam behind him. I wait behind the door until I know he is gone.

When I am certain he is far away, I slip through the front door that he had left ajar. 

_Who is foolish now, Nico?_


	18. Chapter 18

I make my way down the halls as fast as I can without drawing attention to myself, trying to stay as much in the shadows as possible. When it has been several minutes and my mother hasn't come after me, and I know I am far enough away that it will be too late by the time she notices my absence, it feels as if some of the weight has lifted and it is all I can do not to burst into a run. This hall appears to be empty, but I cannot risk attracting any attention. Nico's visit has given my questions new urgency, and I must know what is happening to me. I will go to Keons now to see what I can learn, and nobody, not even Nico, can stop me.

 

I am almost out of Nico's region when I hear hushed voices coming from an alcove nearby, concealed by one of the ubiquitous Statues Of The Glorified. 

"-Never let me do anything!" cries a familiar voice.

Chlorine.  Glorious. Now she will think I was eavesdropping on her. This is some luck I am having today.

I begin to walk faster in the hope that my presence will not be detected by her or her unknown companion. 

Why was I so annoyed she was off hiding and whispering with this mystery person? I don't care at all what she does.

"-Look what happened last time. You only caused more trouble!"

"I think she might be beginning to remember-"

"Oh, don't tell me you're still fixated on her."

I paused.

She can't be talking about me, too. What, does everyone know?

When I saw her at the Annual Assemblage, I thought I had seen her before. That couldn't be true. Could it?

This is why I must know, I remind myself. This is of no importance. I need to get to Keons before anyone notices I am gone.

Chlorine storms out from the shadows. I suddenly feel faint. Not now, of all times. I pray that I don't black out, and hope that Chlorine doesn't notice me. She does not say anything, pausing to examine the statue that had blocked her hiding spot from view. Maybe my luck is beginning to improve. I do wonder, though, why this always happens when she appears. I  am still not unsure she doesn't have any kind of  Bishop-like powers herself.

I vow to put it out of her mind. I have more than enough on my hands-I laugh darkly at the unfortunate aptness of the saying- as it is. I cross to Andre's region.

"Hey, Carnation! Where are you going?"

"That does not seem like your business at all! Besides, why did you follow me?  And for how long?"

She chooses to ignore the last two questions. "None of my business, huh?" she winks playfully. I ignore her, not wanting to dignify that with a response. "Well, can I go with you then?"

"What? No!"

"Please, Carnation! Please let me go with you!" This behavior was so unlike typical cool, aloof Chlorine that I almost laughed.

"Why do you want to go with me so badly?"

"It's my home. I haven't been allowed to return for years, since I was taken here. But it is time for me to go back."

I  didn't know she was from Keons's region originally. I had thought she was from Reisdro's. Perhaps she lived there when she was younger. Maybe when her parents were still around. At any rate, how did she know that was where I was headed? Better  not to ask. She would just give some cryptic, evasive answer anyway.

"Alright, fine. But there is something I need to do on my own there."

"Thank you so much. Maybe I can help you, too."

I find myself smiling despite myself.

"Be careful, though," she added. "Trench can be easy to get lost in for those who aren't familiar with it. Take care when you are out there."

"What are you talking about? What's a Trench?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a vulture flapping its wings. Chlorine leans in, and  the dizzy feeling returns.

"Shhhhh. But good job covering for yourself. You can never be too careful here," she murmurs.

"No, seriously. What were you talking about?"

"Ohhhh, I forgot. Not everyone knows it as Trench. It's what's outside the walls. Where the Banditos are."

I should have known that there was something off about her today.

"Chlorine, are you feeling all right?" I see the vulture again. It is definitely circling us.

"Of course, Carnation. I'm perfectly well."

"You know the Banditos aren't real, right? They're a story. You must have read about them in one of Keons's books."

"Keons? What about Keons? Now I'm confused. Anyway, the Banditos are very real. The Bishops just wish they weren't. They can make it true because they can say whatever they want and people will believe  them. But they are wrong. There's a  whole world out there."

"You know there's nothing outside the walls of this city," I argue, though a bit of  doubt creeps in.

"That's what they want you to believe. But it  isn't true and somewhere, deep down, you know that."

I shake my head. "You could be smeared if anyone heard you, you know." The vulture appears to lean in, as if it were listening.

"So you're saying you don't want me to be smeared?" she teases. "Alright, wrong time for that, I  know, sorry." She looks serious again.

"I'm so sorry that they have done this to you, Carnation. Find me when you remember." She turns around, deflated.

"Wait, Chlorine! What happened, that afternoon? People keep asking me about it. Did I do something terrible?"

"I'm sorry but I don't think you're ready to know yet. Just know when you are, I'll be here. Good bye, Carnation."

And once again, I am left alone with my questions. This time, I am almost there. I am ready, despite what Chlorine says. I will find the answers I so desperately need. I have to. I do not know what I will do, otherwise.


	19. Chapter 19

When I arrive, Keons is waiting, like he had been expecting me. After all this confusion I was very glad to see him. His eyes have a strange, faraway look in them.

"Oh, Carnation," he says. "Seeing you walk in with that expression on your face, you remind me so much of your mother."

My mother? Was everyone speaking nonsense today? I have always hoped that I would never be anything like her.

"What expression?" I must have had that thin-lipped, disapproving face. 

"Oh, I apologize. I do not know what I am talking about today. I must be going senile," he says with a laugh. "So, you wanted to ask me something?"

The elderly Bishop watches me, waiting. I nod.

"I have been wondering, lately, about the nature of Vialism and the lives of  its leaders, yourself and the other eight."

"You wish to learn more about Vialism?"

"Yes, and about our Bishops. They are such an integral part of all our lives, and yet I realized I know next to nothing about them."

"What exactly do you wish to know, child?"  His voice held a note of warning.

"I just want to  know more about the rituals performed by the Nine. I have always, for example, been curious about the act of smearing. What does it do?"

"Here in this sacred city, people live a peaceful, luminous life. All you need do is follow our  guidance, and trust that the Nine know the way. But sometimes, people lose their way, forget their  place here. We smear them to guide them back, to help them remember. The markings serve as penance,  and as a reminder to why they are here. Does that help you?"

"Some would say you are making them forget, not remember."

"Perhaps they had already forgotten. Some do not wish to remember."

"How do the markings help them... remember? From where does the darkness on their hands come? Do the Bishops have some sort of special power they use to... guide people?" 

Are they using it to control us?  Was Chlorine right, after all?

"Those are a lot of questions, Carnation. Good questions."

"So are you going to answer them?"

"For everyone's sake, child, I sincerely hope you do not speak to Nico in this way. Otherwise, I fear you may get your questions answered in a more... hands on way."

"So the Bishops do have special capabilities."

"Yes, you could say we do. Vialism is, as you know, the worship of  containment. There is something that flows within our souls, much like the light within the Vialae. Through the learned containment  of it, like the glass surrounding the light,  we are blessed with a special sight that allows us to see things as they should be, and we have the gift to help others to see, as well."

"And how do you know that what you see is, indeed, the truth?"

"You must learn to believe, Carnation. Look around you. Can you not see that this is how it should be?" He looked and sounded so wise, so certain. If only I could feel the same certainty he felt, that this was where we belonged.  

"How would I know that this is what is right? I have never known anything else."

"It is your home, child. You must take comfort in that. There is a place for you here, even if you don't see it yet." 

He still sounded so sure, and I was gripped by a sudden indescribable panic. Why couldn't I feel the same belonging here that so many others seemed to? Why did I feel so out of control? Everything Keons had said was coming together to form a horrible conclusion. There must be something terribly wrong with me, after all. Something that, perhaps, couldn't be fixed. I had lost my way, obviously, and  I did not know if there was any way to find it again. I was broken, somewhere deep inside. Something flowed through me as well, but not the clarity Keons had described, something darker, murkier, more frightening. I had remembered, vaguely, the feeling  of cold Bishop hands on my neck and thought the feeling similar to what  dwelled inside me, though it now appeared I could have been mistaken. I had hoped for  an explanation, but I couldn't avoid the truth.

Still, something felt a little off.

"Keons," I blurted, unable to hold back all my fears any longer, "Do you think I'm a good person?"

He looked surprised.

"I do, child,"  he replied. "I think you just need a little more guidance, and a little more faith, but I've always believed you will be just fine."

I want to believe him.

"Really?"

"Yes, child. Believe it  or not, I have known others who have struggled with the same things as you. You believe you do not belong here, don't you?"

I nod. I have never admitted that to anyone before. 

"You will feel you belong here one day. I promise."

"Thank you."

"Any time, child.  Now, I believe it is time for you to go. I'm sure your poor mother is out of her mind with worry by now."

I am still not sure what I believe, but surrounded by so many people who almost all say they know what is right and what is not, I feel I have no choice to believe it. Keons, after all, has said it was true, and I trust him, even if I trust no one else here. 

I must believe it, for it is all I have ever seen. Must ignore the voice inside, the  one that sounds a bit like Chlorine, that says that this lack of proof is exactly why I cannot believe. It does not matter, anyway, if what the Nine say is true, I realize. It is what everyone else believes- Not everyone, Chlorine seems to whisper- and that makes it as good as true. I must try to believe, at least until I can learn more.


	20. Chapter 20

Aster tried to walk as quietly as she could through the camp, praying that no one would notice her or ask where she was going. Not that anyone would, anyway. Almost every Bandito in the whole camp was inside the tent that she was  heading toward. Having yet another conversation that apparently Aster could not be trusted enough to be a part of. 

Why? This camp has been her home for several moon cycles now, and she feels now that she belongs here more than she ever did in Dema. How could she  have ever thought of that place as home?  Aster had never known that such openness existed, and some part of her must have  always longed for it.  This, she believed, was where she was meant be, and she did not understand ever having been content to live out her life in this place she had once considered home. Well, you can't miss what you never had, she mused. I'm out  here, now, and I never would have imagined I would be. 

 She was so grateful to the Banditos for allowing her to stay here, yet it seemed allowing her to live in their camp was all that they were willing to do. They fed her, sheltered her, and clothed her, but it was clear they did not see her as one of them. When she first arrived, it seemed  they were fully embracing her, but she soon saw that this was not the case. Most Banditos seemed evasive, and some were downright wary of her. They began to avoid her like she was cursed, to have frequent grave, secluded discussions to which Aster was never invited. She hoped as she lived with them longer, they would grow to trust her, but it would not appear that that was happening anytime soon. At first, she had relished being free to explore the land surrounding her, as far as the eye could see, but she was curious about this mythical group, living a life so different than those inside the city's walls. What was their purpose, out here? What did they believe in, if not the Bishop's teachings?  What was their connection to Dema, and what were they hiding from her?

Aster didn't remember much about the tales of the Banditos she had heard as a child. She had  never had much time for them, dismissing it all as merely a myth used to scare children into obedience to the Bishops and to their parents. As she recalled, when Dema was built and  Vialism was instituted, there were some who disagreed with it, who wanted to go back to how it was before the Bishops took leadership. Many were punished, but several managed to flee, and those who survived created camps such as this nestled in the towering rock faces surrounding the city. In the stories, they were portrayed as  people who would take unruly children, who would twist them to become unfit to live in Dema. However, these Banditos, at least did not seem at all interested in Aster at all, much less converting her to their ways. If anything, it seemed the opposite was  true at times, that they were expecting, even hoping, that she would give up and defect back to the familiarity of Dema. Well, Aster thought. If that was what they were expecting, they would be disappointed. She intended to find out why they didn't trust her, one way or another. And she would start by figuring out what they talked about when they did not want her to hear. 

She knelt down, as close to the tent as she could get without alerting anyone inside to her presence. 

"Has there been any news from the inside?" one voice asks.

"Not much,"  replies another, the one who had warned Aster not to touch the flames on her first day at the camp. "The Bishops are still staying vigilant after Aster here made it out and that other girl tried to."

"What of her? Has she tried to make another run for it?"

"Not that any of us know. Katya's daughter has been watching her. She seems to believe she will, but I think the poor girl must have been spooked. Stryker said he was pretty sure Nico had gotten to her, and who knows how he messed with her."

Why were the Banditos watching inside the city? She'd thought they merely wanted to live separate from it. Could it be there was some truth to the old stories?

"Well, no one tries to escape from Nico's clutches and makes it," cuts in Annaki. "Nothing can be done for her now."

Aster hopes this mysterious other girl becomes the first one from Nico's region to make it out. Annaki has been a hostile presence here since she arrived, and she is growing tired of his attitude toward newcomers. Does he not realize that once, someone related to him fled the city too, no longer content with life within its walls? She wanted the same thing everyone out here did. Did that not make her one  of them? And what of their apparent concern with others who had tried to leave? She was convinced that much of the reason that the camp kept her at arm's length was Annaki and his conviction that she would not last long out here.

I thought that there weren't Bishops in Trench, she thought drily.

"And what of that girl, Aster?"

Oh glory. Here we go.

"Are they still looking for her?"

"I haven't seen any Bishops out here lately," the woman who seemed to report on goings-on inside the city said. "I think they have given up on finding her by now. She's been out here with us for quite some time."

Annaki grumbled something. 

"It is time that we let her truly join us. We can't keep her out forever. I'm sure can all agree she's ready."

"She does seem to have what it takes," Annaki says, surprising Aster. "But we have thought that of others too, and we all know what happened. They always end up back in that wretched place before long. We just can't risk it."

"Annaki, what happened before wasn't something any of us could have prevented."

For once, he didn't seem to have anything to say to that.

"Yes, people get taken back. It happens. But we can't push them away. What do you think happens when people don't feel at home here? Listen, I know this girl reminds you of her-"

"I will never forget her."

Who? Was there a problem, the last time someone made it out? Do they think whatever happened then will happen again? Did Annaki care for this person, whoever she was? Aster tried to picture him loving someone, and being  heartbroken when she was taken from him. She couldn't  quite picture it, but maybe it would explain his behavior.

"I know you won't. But I really believe she will make it here. You have to trust her. Doubt is what draws the Bishops out here. Do not forget that."

"Alright. If everyone else agrees, we will talk to her after we are done here. If anything happens, though, don't forget I warned you." 

Aster did not stick around to hear the rest. She  knew she had heard things she wasn't yet  supposed to know, and she was certainly in no hurry to see how Annaki would react if she was discovered. She had even more questions now, and she hoped to see  them answered soon. The woman in the tent was right. She was ready to become a part of the Banditos, though it seemed it would be much more complicated than she had originally imagined.


	21. Chapter 21

Carnation’s POV

"Neena, are there many others like us?" I ask, stretched out on the floor across beside her.

"I think so," she replies. "I haven't seen many others before I met you, but there must be more out there."

"How did you know? About me?" 

"I just saw the signs. I know what it's like, how it feels. I saw some of your mannerisms and recognized them as things I do as well."

"You don't think there would be any chance that anyone else would see these things, do you?"

I still wasn't completely sure I trusted her, but this may be the only way I can hope to begin to learn the truth. As reluctant as I was to trust her, she was better than any of the alternatives. 

"Don't worry, Carnation. I really don't. I only noticed, like I said, because I know about this from experience. Even then, I barely believed it at first. I hadn't seen any others before."

"You're sure? You don't think that there could be someone else who knows? I don't know it just sometimes feel like some people know things about me, the way they watch me..."

Neena scoffs. "You mean Chlorine? I'm sure she knows nothing, she's just odd."

"I don't know. I'm scared, Neena. The day before the Annual Assemblage, something happened and I don't know what. I'm afraid I lost control, Neena. And I think she was there. I remember her eyes. She makes me feel so strange, and I don't know why."

"I am sorry, but I can't help you with that. I wasn't there, and I'd bet she wasn't either. My guess would be she's trying to get information from you. I wouldn't worry about it. Just don't tell her anything."

A suspicion came to me. "Do you think she's spying for Nico?" 

That would not surprise me, given Nico's distrust for me. Not to mention, Chlorine first appeared at the Annual Assemblage, after the incident. Which means she may have been there. She may be the only person who could tell me what happened that day. If she would stop playing these games with me. I suppose Nico told her to follow me on the way to Keons' region, too. Well if he wants her to find me doing something incriminating, he will have no luck.

"Who knows? That doesn't seem completely crazy. Hey, can I braid your hair? I bet you have great hair for braiding, so long and thick." 

"Sure," I say. "You won't tell anyone, will you? About what we've been talking about."

"Of course not."

"Are we Bishops, too? That's been my best guess so far- Ow!"

"Sorry, did I pull?"

"It's alright. My head is just sensitive. My mother always used to tell me to do something with my hair because it's always a mess, but I always refused because it hurt. Maybe she'll finally be happy with me today. Anyway, what's your theory about our... thing?"

"As far as I know, you're right. Perhaps we're to take over the current Nine one day?"

I am still not sure I want to be a Bishop. I imagine having that sort of power. The thing inside of me rising to find its permanent place. People would fear me, respect me. I would not have to constantly push down this thing that may indeed be my true self. I remember how strong I feel when the darkness takes over. I remember the shame I feel, after. Would that remain, if I was a Bishop one day?

What if it didn't? What if it became too much to bear?

What if it was another trap I could never escape?

But what if it set me free? 

I realize Neena has finished with my hair. She is watching me. For a moment, she almost reminds me of Chlorine.

What would she think about this?

Why do I care?

"You are conflicted," Neena says. "I was too. You still see it as a curse. It can be scary. But it makes you strong too, if you learn how to use it. When you're ready, I can teach you."

Ready. All this talk, lately, of my readiness, or lack thereof. Would I ever be ready? 

"Chlorine said something weird to me the other day. Something about me not being ready. Are you sure she is not using these abilities as well?"

The more I think about it, the more sense it makes. The rivalry between Chlorine and Neena. The way Chlorine makes me feel, like I'm drawn to her, like I should trust her. The Bishops have that power too. Neena must be jealous that she is more advanced at using it. Maybe Nico has taught her. Maybe he is using her abilities to weaken me. 

"Why are you so obsessed with Chlorine?"

"What? I am not obsessed with her!" 

I'm not. Am I?

"You mentioned her at least three times in this conversation. She's obviously on your mind a lot. I'm starting to think you're secretly in love with her. It's the only thing that makes sense."

"That's not possible. I don't even know what you mean. She probably has the same abilities as us, like I said , and that's why she makes me feel so strange. She-"

"Remember I said I could tell, with you? I haven't sensed anything like that from her. That doesn't mean she's to be trusted. She could still be spying for Nico. But she's not like us."

"I am not in love with her." I splutter.

 

"You did say she made you feel all strange. Sort of hot, lightheaded?"

"I think it has something to do with Nico."

"Look at how pink your face is turning."

"It is not. See, she is up to something I know it."

"Listen, I know it isn't encouraged. You probably haven't encountered it. But it's nothing to be ashamed of. Nico won't find out."

"He will because she's spying on me for him!"

"This could be a great opportunity for you, actually. You could try to use your power on her."

"I don't know..."

"Awww, you don't want to hurt her."

I force down the heat rising on my face. I do not want to talk about this anymore.

"I should go. My mother will be impatient."

"We'll talk about this more another time," she says, following me down the hall.

Please, no.

"I am not in love with Chlorine!" I shout back at her as I turn the corner. I hurry toward my apartment before she can say anything else, not bothering to look where I'm going until I feel my body collide with another. It was probably my mother, waiting for me. I stared the floor, bracing myself for another lecture about how I really must pay better attention to my surroundings. 

"Oh, Carnation, how you wound me" says a very different voice than the one I'd been expecting. I look up, surprised. Chlorine smiles teasingly but her face seems to quiver a little.

Spying again. How much had she heard?

I try to think of something snappy to say back, the kind of thing I always want to say but am too afraid to. 

"Sorry to disappoint you. You wouldn't be the first, I'm afraid." I walk past without another glance at her, and open the door, feeling victorious, somehow.

The pride evaporated immediately under my mother's harsh gaze. What had I done now? She seems to regard me with even more displeasure than usual. Did she know what Neena and I had discussed? Had Chlorine told her something?

"Whatever have you done with your hair, Carnation?"


	22. Chapter 22

"My... hair? Neena and I were talking and she wanted to braid it. I thought you would be happy, since you always want me to do something with my hair. Why does it upset you?"

"It just does. Take it out."

"It is just a hairstyle, mother."

This is weird, even for her. How can a simple braid be so offensive to her?  As much as it tires me, I am used to her constantly finding fault with me, but this seems to be a reach. Can she really not find anything else wrong with me? 

Unless this is about something else. 

"Has Nico been here again?"

"This isn't about Nico, Carnation. This is about you."

"Alright, what did I do then?"

"You are not speaking to me very respectfully, Carnation."

I am giving her the exact amount of respect she deserves if she intends to carry on with this madness.

"Well, Carnation, if you must know, that is the way your aunt Gloriana used to wear her hair. Disrespectful girl. Would be a shame if you ended up like her. Unfortunately, I fear that is the route down which you will be headed if you are  not very careful."

It would appear that this is not about me, after all. I fight the urge to release the darkness inside me on her. I don't imagine she would find that very respectful.

I am really starting to think I do not blame Gloriana, if my mother treated her at all like she treats me. 

"I am not Gloriana,  mother. I don't think I ever even knew her. I wish you would stop blaming me for her actions. Why do you hate her so much, anyway?"

I do not have a sister, so I do not know what  it is like, but I'm sure if I did I would not hate her the way my mother seems to have hated hers. Did she always feel this way  about Gloriana? Or was it only after she did whatever heinous, unforgivable thing  that they turned on each other? I knew my grandmother had died when they were young and that my mother was forced to care for Gloriana until The Incident and her subsequent death. Knowing my mother, she probably was  much the same then as now. To hear her tell it, Gloriana was always talking back to her older sister, much like I sometimes wished I could. She never listened, never appreciated anything my  mother did for her. Just, she always said, like me.

I imagined young Gloriana, constantly nagged, berated, disapproved of. I thought about how nothing I did was ever good enough. Imagining her living a life so much like mine, I wondered, again, if she had really done anything so terrible. What could be so dreadful as  to merit such secrecy?

Was she... like me? I imagine another girl with something dark and a little uncontrollable living inside her. Hiding darkened hands. Trying desperately not to lose control. And maybe, one day, she does. 

Will this power kill me, too?

I wish I could learn more  about this mysterious aunt who may be more like me than I ever knew, but I don't know anyone who would tell me anything. If I wanted to hear about what a disgrace she was, I could simply listen to my mother or Nico, but no one would talk about her life. Whatever happened cost her every memory but that one.

So, what could I do?

I thought and thought. I paced around and stared out the window. It was getting dark and I could see the Necropolis in the distance.

Inspiration hit.

I would sneak out to the Necropolis at night, when the city was asleep. I would visit Gloriana's Monument of Exaltation. Maybe being there, in the place her spirit had gone to rest, would give me some insight. It had been said Bishops had some communication with the spirit world. Perhaps I would too.

For now, there was nothing I could do but wait as the sky grew darker. I lay in my bed, wide awake, until I was certain my mother had fallen asleep. I stepped carefully, silently, out of my apartment and down the halls, hoping no one else was out at this late hour. It felt oddly exciting, to be awake when the entire city was sleeping. The sky outside the windows was black, but the city was never left in darkness, forever lit by Vialae. I was relieved not to be in constant darkness, but was careful to stay to the shadows. I tried my best to avoid looking at the Statues Of The Glorified, half in shadow, half eerily illuminated. I pushed away old fears of them coming alive, of being grabbed by brittle, cold, grey hands...

Finally, I reached the door. I opened it as quietly as I could  and hurried into the glow of the night. I paused to admire the glow of the city against the darkness. It had always been one of my favorite things about living in Dema. It could be a dull place, but it could also be beautiful, when it wanted to be. I had always loved the beauty of the lights and been grateful to them for blocking out the uncertain darkness, but tonight I prayed for the darkness to hide me, to cover me from unwanted eyes. I wasn't doing anything wrong, not really, but I get the feeling Nico would not approve of this little outing. I checked for Watchers and, not seeing any, continued on to the Necropolis, the glowing City of the Dead.

The first plots you reached, closest to the city, were the smallest ones, the most exclusive. The ones made for those who had lived their lives most gloriously. My aunt's Monument was in one of the larger, more crowded plots near the walls surrounding Dema. Crowded in with so many others, nearly forgotten. I scoured the plaques beside each monument, searching for her name. I found her in the last row, as far as one could get from the city without being built into the wall. The Monuments back here were nearly overgrown with weeds, and I smiled at the sight of a few bearing red flowers. Carnations. I pushed some of them aside to reveal the plaque, and saw her name carved into it. I carefully pulled up some of the weeds surrounding the Vialae, and laid the flowers at the base of it. I didn't find it fair that these lives that were considered less glorious were  seen to deserve less respect. The stories say that once you die, your spirit dwells eternally in the Vialae that  makes up the Monument of Exaltation. It had always seemed sad to me that spirits weren't even free in death, but it was supposed to be comforting, a final home for the lost one's luminous soul. A way to be remembered. But these people back here were as good as forgotten.

Well, I thought, if some essence of my aunt was truly trapped in here, I should certainly visit her more often. It must be lonely back here.

I awkwardly sat down beside her grave, unsure what to do next. What was I expecting? What could happen, anyway? It wasn't like her spirit would rise and speak to me. The ridiculousness of this journey hit me and I did the only thing I could possibly think to do, no matter how futile: I began to speak, almost as if I believed she could hear me.

"Hello, Gloriana. I came here because I realized I don't really know much about you. But I realized you might actually be a lot like me."

Suddenly, surrounded by nothing but glowing graves, I began to voice thoughts that had only ever existed in the deepest part of me. Things I never thought I would say out loud.

"Did you ever feel... trapped in here? Like this place is slowly killing you, almost? Was there something  inside you, something rotten, something you can't control? Did they hate you, too?"

My voice hitches. I feel tears beginning to spill down my face and swipe at them angrily. I will not cry.

"What is wrong with me?"

I get the strangest feeling, like she can hear me somehow. It is all too much for me, somehow. Each glowing monument feels like an eye, watching me. Each one knows my secrets. I get up and begin to walk away, but the lights are so bright and I'm lost in them. I am going the wrong way. Where am I? 

I am not alone. I hear soft sniffling nearby and I tiptoe as quietly as possible to see who is there. I  am hardly surprised to see that it's Chlorine. After all, she never seems to be very far. I have been successful at keeping her out of my head, so preoccupied with thoughts of my aunt and my mother, but the sight of her re-awakens all my uncertainties. 

Why is she here? Is she reporting to Nico again? No, she doesn't seem to be. She is kneeling by two monuments, silent and alone. She does not see me. I remember that her parents are both gone and feel a stab of shame for suspecting her, tonight. I must haver ended  up near Reisdro's region, and she must be visiting them. 

Tears stream down her face and unlike me, she is not ashamed. For a moment, I hate her for showing weakness so unashamedly, and feel terrible again. I  slip away before she can notice me. By the time she looks up, perhaps sensing my presence, I am gone.

I zigzag through the Necropolis, making my way as quickly as possible to the door that will lead me inside. I must  get home before anyone notices. I want to erase the memory of this night forever from my  mind. I am not weak.  

I have made it  back to my region's section. I need only make it a bit farther, and I will be inside.

Nearby, someone clears his throat. I startle, crouching  down to conceal myself the best I could. I could have sworn I was alone. Had Chlorine followed me again?

The shadows seemed to shift as Nico materialized out of the patch of darkness he had apparently been lurking in.

"I know you're out here skulking around somewhere, Carnation. If you don't reveal yourself, you will be found. If you come out now and tell me where you are going and why, you will not be smeared."

I stand and cautiously step toward him, seeing no better alternative. 

"Not sleeping well?" he asks drily.

"No, Nico."

"Care to tell me where you have been at this late hour?"

"I was just visiting my aunt's Monument of Exaltation. Reflecting on my disrespectful behavior lately. I must be careful or I will end up like her."

"Very wise, Carnation. I encourage you, however, to heed my warnings about wandering off. Especially at night."

"Yes, Nico."

"And take care you do not tell falsehoods to me. You and I know a Bishop can always see the truth. I will let this slide because I see you aren't going anywhere, but I will be watching you."

Glorious.

"Yes, Nico."

I pray he does not see me shiver. 

"Now, off to bed. Do not let me see you out here again, or I will be forced to smear you"

"Yes, Nico."

"And you were right, Carnation. You must be very careful."

I run all the way back to my apartment without looking back. 

When I reach my bed, I bury myself under my blankets, but no amount of warmth reaches me. I lie there, Nico's words repeating over and over through my head, and my eyes do not close, even as the sun rises and any trace of darkness leaves the sky.

I do not know what the morning will bring me.


	23. Chapter 23

It is immediately evident that today will not be a good one. As I roll over in  bed, a dull pain throbs inside my skull. As I sit up, it feels as if my head will split open. My eyes burn, dry and sleepless, so  numb to my surroundings that they barely register. My Vialae lamp seems to be making an odd hissing sound, the light strangely burning into my vision.

I hear my mother whispering in another room. I cannot hear what she is saying but immediately know that she is talking about me. I am sure that Nico must be here, again, and glory knows what he is telling her about last night. Maybe he has been listening to Chlorine and believes I was attempting to flee the city.

What would happen to me if he suspected that? I had only heard of a few instances of people attempting to escape, but I know the punishment is severe. If someone is found outside the walls, they are stamped, marking them as a Failed Perimeter Escape. Those who are marked are kept under heightened surveillance as they do their penance, forgetting all they may have witnessed outside the city. No one knows what else happens, but many who are brought back go mad, and few survive for very long afterward.

Nico cannot prove any suspicion he may have, I tell myself. He did not find me outside the walls. I was in the Necropolis, visiting my aunt's grave. I know this will not stop him, though, if he wants to punish me.

No, that is not what he has in mind. He just wants to make me anxious, slowly drive me out of my mind. I will not let him. I dress quietly, waiting until I can no longer hear the whispers through the dull metal grate above my bed. I grumble as I stub my toe on a chest of drawers on my way out. 

As I open my door, I almost hit my mother, who has staked herself out beside the doorway. 

"I'm concerned about you. Nico says you haven't been sleeping. He's seen you, walking the  halls at night. Where are you going, so late?"

"I just can't sleep, need to move around."

"Carnation, please tell me. We are so worried about you."

"I am going to be late to lessons. I don't imagine Nico would much like that, would he?"

"We will talk about this more later. We  know you have been hiding things from us."

Can't wait. I hate when my mother says  "us " like that, like she and our Bishop are of one mind. Like they actually care about me, and not just their beloved Vialism. I hope to spend  the afternoon with Neena instead, unraveling the extent of our abilities.

 

About halfway to the lesson-hall, I  catch a glimpse of something odd and bright in my periphery and pause, craning my neck to take a closer look. Encircling the wrist of a Statue, arms raised high to the ceiling, was a bright piece of tape. The color wasn't one I was familiar with, giving off a feeling of warmth and brightness among the stark whites and greys. Was it some holy day I had been unaware of? No, everything about this seemed to scream that it should not be here. It reminds me of the flowers the man down the hall hoarded, hidden in a drawer. Probably dust now. Flowers I had never seen anywhere within Dema's walls.

This must have been done by someone very agile and careful; the statues were all at least as tall as a full-grown man, on Vialae- decorated pedestals that added still more to their height. I shiver, picturing the stone hands reaching, reaching  in the half-dark of night. Whoever had placed the tape had been careful: there were no  other signs anyone had been there.

I wondered if anyone else had seen it.

 

"Did either of you see anything odd on the way to the lesson-hall, today?" I ask my friends after prayers. I had arrived nearly late this morning, with little time to talk before Marian called the class to order. 

"No, I didn't see anything. Why?"  asked Arianne. "Did you see  anything, Neena?"

Neena shook her head. "The real question is, what was Carnation doing out in the Necropolis last night?"

Arianne gasped. "You... what? Yes, why?"

"Were you having a secret, passionate meeting with your secret love?"

"Carnation has a secret love? Who is it?"

"No, Neena, I do not. Arianne, don't listen to Neena."

"That's good. One's only true devotion should be to Vialism, to our Bishops."

Neena laughs. "How do you think we get more little Vialists, then?"

"Neena! That is really not appropriate! And in the Necropolis, really?" Arianne turns to me. "The Bishops  will not approve, you know that. I don't understand how you are always getting into such trouble."

"C'mon Arianne!  Don't you want to know who the lucky person is?"

"Don't  you dare, Neena."  

"Look how red you are! If you keep this up, you will become an actual carnation." She leans toward Arianne.

"If anyone cares, I was actually visiting my aunt's Monument-"

The door opens and in walks Chlorine. Neena winks. I jab her with my elbow. 

"You are late, Chlorine," snaps Marian. "Please sit in the back of the room. Carnation, please join her, until you are capable of not causing disruptions in my class." 

Neena grins. "Don't get into more trouble."

 I rolled my eyes in response and settle into my new seat. Chlorine sits down beside me. A whole row of seats and she chooses this one. I watch her, curious, as she arranges her things. The sheet of paper she places in front of her is slightly crumpled, but she lines up her pens perfectly beside  it. When Marian isn't looking, she slouches a bit in the uncomfortable, cube-shaped seat, her face contorting in a near-imperceptible grimace. I notice how her nose and cheekbones are dotted in light freckles, and her hair is falling into her eyes, fringed by long, thick lashes. I'd never noticed those things before. She really is quite pretty, I think to myself. I wonder what it would be like to be in love with her. My eyes are drawn to her lips and I wonder what kissing her would feel like.

I notice a faraway expression has come over her face. 

"What's the matter?" I ask gently, feeling a strange tenderness all of a sudden.

"I miss my home," she murmurs.

I sigh. This Trench madness, again? She will only end up being punished. Though maybe, if she's smeared and forgets, it will be for the best. 

"Chlorine, you know this is your home, right? it's everyone's home. Everybody-"

 "-Gets to live a luminous life like the light that surrounds us. I know. I just never thought I'd hear you spewing that der'mo."

"Chlorine!"

"I really thought you'd know better."

"If Nico hears you-"

"And you believe what they say? You genuinely feel luminous and glorious and all that stuff here?"

"Well no. But you know how you always talk about your home? This is my home. It's where I belong. And like it or not, it's where you are too, and where you will stay."

"Do you even know what home means, Carnation?" 

"It is... it is where they tell you you belong. I don't know. I've never much liked the word anyway. Has a bit of a confining feel to it, somehow. Like it's smothering you."

"No, Carnation. It is not where anyone tells you that you belong. It's the place where you feel at peace, like you are where you are meant to be. Have you ever felt that?"

I shake my head. Chlorine looks at me with concern and suddenly I realize I am crying. 

"Are you alright?"

I nod. 

"Obviously you are not. but that's ok."

"It's not. If Nico sees..." 

"I hope you can one day feel it. What I was talking about before." 

She is being ridiculous. And yet, I still wonder what her lips would feel like. This must stop, at once.

 

She is beginning to make me doubt, again.

Again?

"I don't think I can talk to you right now."

"Alright. I'm here when you're ready."

I don't know that I will ever be ready. The intensity in her eyes frightens me. 

She reaches her hand toward me. What is she feeling, right now? 

"Do not touch me," I say.

If she does, I fear something inside me will break.

She shrinks back, a flash of hurt inside. Part of me wants to comfort her, but part of me is relieved.

I fully blame Neena for all of this. 

"Carnation," Marian says  sternly, and for a moment I  fear she has seen inside of my head. "Please tell us about the  Necropolis, since I have heard you have taken such an interest in it."

"When one becomes a Glorified, the Necropolis is where their soul is finally put to rest, after their bodies are given to the vultures in the Towers. Each soul is represented by a Monument Of Exhaltation, made out of  Vialae  and blessed at  that years Annual Assemblage  Of The Glorified, where those who have finally found peace are honored each year. The Monument serves as a reminder to all that the person to whom it is dedicated has lived a glorious life, and they shall be never forgotten."

"Very good, Carnation. And Darlena, when is the Necropolis open for visitation?"

"On the holiest day of every moon cycle, residents of all regions are invited to visit the graves of those they know who have passed on." I should like to slap that dreadful smirk right off her face.

"Exactly. It is forbidden to visit the Necropolis on all other days, correct, Arianne?"

"It is." She, at least, has the decency to look somewhat guilty.

"Very well. Today we will discuss how to best represent our Bishops with honor. One such way is to always be sure to carefully observe all items of the Vialist Code Of Conduct, which we will review  momentarily. Does anyone have any questions?"

I zoned out, unable to bear listening to another boring lecture about the Vialist Code Of Conduct.  Chlorine was looking at me worriedly.

"I was in the Necropolis last night," she whispered. "That must be what all this was about. I thought I felt someone up there. I  just wanted to visit my parents. I hope nobody tells Reisdro." She sounded terrified.

"Don't worry," I tell her. "I'm pretty sure nobody saw you. I was out there too, last night, visiting my  aunt. Nico saw me."

"I'm sorry about your aunt."

"Don't worry. I never knew her, really. She died soon after I was born. My mother's always disappointed in me, though, and is constantly comparing me to her. Apparently, before she died she did something so terrible that no one can even speak about it. And they all think I'm twice  as bad." 

"Wow. She sounds interesting."

"Yeah. Sometimes  I wish  I knew her, you know? I guess that's why I went to visit her Monument. By the way, I'm sorry about your parents."

"They wouldn't have wanted to die here. This place killed them. It's killing us all, and no one sees."

She is silent the rest of the day, and so am I. 

It only occurs to me later that she may know something about the tape on the statue's wrist.


	24. Chapter 24

"What is the matter with you, today?" Neena cries as we walk home after Marian's lecture has ended. "You are so distracted. I bet you didn't hear a word I just said!"  
"Not true!"  
"Alright, what did I say then?"  
I wrack my brain, trying to see if I caught anything she was saying. A vulture flys by, too close to my face for comfort and I flinch.  
"See? You weren't listening. I was going to suggest we try a water-ritual today but those require focus. Another day, hopefully. I want us to see what we can do!"  
"Shhhhh, vulture." I gesture toward it, not wanting Nico to hear of any of this. I was already on thin enough ice with him.  
"You almost hit that pillar there! Clumsy! You need to get out of this fog now before you become an early Glorified!"  
I sighed. Neena was right, I was distracted. As much as I may try, I can't seem to get Chlorine out of my head. After several moon cycles of forcing her out and away, she has wormed her way in with no sign of leaving.  
Damn you, Neena, for forcing these feelings that I'm so afraid of to the surface. Damn Chlorine, too, for making me feel this way. There is no place for this in Dema.  
"Have you had any visions, ever? I have those sometimes. Like dreams, but they're trying to show you something?"  
"Yes, every once in awhile. They are quite strange."  
"They can be. As Bishops, we have the power of premonition. You know things sometimes, right? That something will happen, before it does. Or that something is true."  
I nod, even though I dislike how she calls us Bishops. We aren't, really, at least not yet. Just because a thing has the ability to be something doesn't mean it is that thing. We are potential Bishops, maybe. But we are not the same as the Nine. Still, I am unable to deny that I possess the abilities she mentioned.  
"Just like I knew about your feelings for Chlorine."  
"Please stop talking about Chlorine, Neena."  
"You are utterly useless today, Carnation. I think you should rest so you are more awake tomorrow. After lessons, we will try to read the water."  
"Alright," I mumble, not wanting to return home to my mother but knowing I had no other choice. I must face her, eventually.  
"See you then!"

"You have been acting so very oddly lately. Why?"  
Immediately, my stress levels rise. "Hello, mother."  
"I need you to tell me why you are behaving this way. You need to talk to me. I want to help you. So does Nico. I know it may not always seem like it, but he cares about you so much. He knows you can live a better life than you are. You just need to trust us."  
"There is really nothing, mother. I am just like this, remember?"  
"You don't have to be. Let Nico help you, Carnation."  
"I don't think he can."  
"He and I have spoken about this. You are unwilling to trust, and it holds you back. Because of it, you are unable to understand. You must open your mind. You will soon find you have a much easier time."  
She looks at me expectantly.  
"I must go review the Vialist Code of Conduct. Marian assigned it. I will read it and then go to sleep. I have been feeling tired lately, since I haven't been sleeping."  
"Good girl," my mother says. "I hope you get some sleep tonight."  
"Me too."  
"Very well, then, get to it."

The only problem is, I don't remember where I have left my copy of the Code of Conduct. I do not want to ask my mother, who I seem to have finally placated, so I head to my bedroom, hoping it is somewhere in there. It is nowhere in sight. Annoyed, I flop onto my bed, nearly sitting on a perfectly folded piece of paper that has been left there. Curious, I unfold it, wondering who left it here. Inside is a short, typewritten message:  
_Carnation-_  
_I need to see you. Meet me in the alcove around the corner from your apartment. There is something you need to know._  
_-Chlorine_

So many questions enter my mind. What did she need to tell me? How did she manage to sneak into my room? Did she notice my feelings toward her changing? Could she feel it, somehow?  
Code of Conduct forgotten, I hurried out the door before my mother could notice and to the hidden alcove she had given as a meeting spot. It was a good place, I noticed, tucked away from prying eyes. She was evidently very good at making herself unseen.  
"You came."  
"Yes. I did."  
"I wasn't sure you would." She bit her lip, looking nervous.  
"Well, here I am." I focus on the wall, trying not to look at her.  
"Here you are," she murmured. "I'm glad you came." Her gaze fixes on me and heat rushes to my face.  
"What did you want to tell me?" I blurt, flustered.  
"Oh. It's about your aunt, the one you mentioned earlier. Gloriana, right?"  
I nod. This is not at all what I was expecting her to say.  
"I think my mother knew her."


	25. Chapter 25

"Your mother? She knew my aunt? How?"  
"I don't remember her well, as I was only a baby when they knew each other. My mother used to talk about her a lot, though." There is a quiver in her voice and I find myself wanting to comfort her, but unsure what to do. "I believe they were very close."  
"How strange to imagine that our relatives knew each other, and now here we are," I remark. I imagined my mysterious aunt, close with Chlorine's mother. A very odd thought indeed. But if what Chlorine told me was true, that would mean... "Was this in this Trench, then, that they were friends?"  
"Yes. My parents were Banditos, and I lived there when I was young. I believe my parents moved here and joined the Underground to discover what had happened to Gloriana, as a matter of fact."  
"So my aunt escaped. That makes sense, actually. I always knew she had done something terrible, but no one would tell me what. She was out there. And she must have gotten caught."  
"Yes, I believe one of the Bishops found her and brought her back to the city one day. Nico, I'd assume. She was gone without a trace, leaving behind only her jacket at the camp. She had made many friends there, and everyone was heartbroken, especially her lover, Annaki. He has never been quite the same since. It broke him, my mother said. He was always surly, I've heard, but he became hard and bitter after she was taken."  
Is it my imagination, or do her eyes land on me when she said the word lover?  
"It must be terrible have someone you love so much taken away from you," I say.  
"Yes. I couldn't imagine." Again, her eyes seem to linger on me a bit too long.  
"Wow," I breathe. "I never knew much at all about her. Only that my mother hated her, but never why. It all makes so much more sense now. I still can't believe it."  
"I don't imagine anyone would've told you about her. Seems like the kind of thing people here would rather forget." She reaches into her pocket. "I have a drawing of her my mother gave me, if you want to see it."  
I nod and she hands it to me. I regard it carefully, in awe of this woman I never knew. "She's beautiful," I whisper.  
Her hair, which seems as wild as mine, is barely contained in the infamous braid and slung over her shoulder. There is an indescribable elegance to her features and her dark eyes seem to burn.  
"She reminds me of you," Chlorine murmurs.  
"Me?" I am not beautiful, I know that. Nothing like her. I think of my grayish skin, not smooth like some. My hair that sticks out in all directions, my slightly crooked nose, my eyes, set a little too close together. I look at Chlorine, perhaps one of the most beautiful girls I have ever seen with her striking eyes, golden-brown hair and soft-looking skin, and back at the paper.  
"You have the same hair," she says. "Your features are similar too. And look at her eyes. Yours have the same fire in them." She stares into my eyes and I find myself pulled in, unable to look away.  
"There are Banditos here?" I ask, feeling strangely vulnerable from her gaze.  
"There are quite a few of us in here," she replied. "More than you would think."  
"I didn't know there were any," I say. "So the stories are true."  
"Yes, in a way. We do not steal innocent children, though, the way they say. People come to us on their own."  
"Chlorine?" I whisper.  
"Yes?" She leans in close to hear. My heart seems to skip a beat.  
"Did I escape? Is that what happened, when I was smeared?"  
She nods. "I knew you would remember! You didn't make it out. You were close, but Sacarver found you and you were smeared. You weren't punished further, since you were found still inside the walls and your escape could not be proven."  
I don't know what to do. With that piece of information, my world seems if it will come crashing down around me. I never had complete faith in the city, but I had always assumed I had been loyal. Even if I didn't trust it, it was all I knew. Now that I knew what had happened, I could never think about my life the same way again.  
"Were you with me?"  
"Carnation," she murmured, soothingly. "You are so shaken right now. I know this is a lot to take in. We will talk more later, ok? Go to bed. Rest."  
A sob rises suddenly from somewhere deep inside me. Soon my entire body is shaking and I am so cold and I will never be warm and nothing would ever be the same. The wrong feeling fills my throat and it's almost like I was smeared again. Tears flood my eyes and I find myself breaking down entirely, unable to stop. Chlorine puts her arms around me, pulls me to her, holding me close. Her touch is comforting and she looks at me with concern, but I cannot bear to touch her right now.  
"This is my home, Chlorine," I cry, pushing her away. "You will never understand. Here is all I have. I'm not like you."  
"Carnation-"  
"Go away."  
"Let me take you home."  
"No. I don't want to see you again. Stay away from me."  
She nods."If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me."  
I stay where I am, watching her leave. When I am sure she is gone, I head in search of someone, the one person I feel I can count on to somehow make this right.  
When I finally find him, he stares at me, surprised.  
"What do you want from me, Carnation? You know I am very busy."  
"I need your help, Nico. Please."


	26. Chapter 26

Nico watches me, suspicion clear on his veiled face. "Now what have you done, child?"  
Now that I know what he knows, I do not blame him for his contempt. It proves every harsh word he ever said to me to be true. I would not trust me either, were I in his position. All this time I thought I was being treated unfairly, only to find it was justified all along. Now I knew I must prove myself trustworthy if I were to have any hope for my life.

"You were right. My troubles all stem from the fact that I lack the proper faith. I hope that you can help me to find what is needed."  
It was foolish of me to ever think I would make it out. The best I could do was try to live peacefully here.

"I'm so sorry, Nico. I have not been worthy." I am barely holding back tears, but my Bishop makes no move to comfort me, as I know Keons would have done.

"While your desire to improve yourself is admirable, child, I must wonder from where it comes." He carefully scrutinizes me, contempt still clear on his face. 

What can I say? While I do wish to better serve my Bishop and city, I find myself unwilling to mention the fact that I have regained my memories or my conversation with Chlorine. I tell myself that I am not protecting her, that he doesn't need to know. Besides, I fear further punishment if Nico discovers what I now know.  
"I simply wish to live a more glorious life. I know that will never happen unless my attitude changes."

"That is very true. We will have much work to do, child."

"Today when I reviewed our Code of Conduct after lessons, it moved me. I look forward to working to exemplify the values of Vialism."

"That is very good, child."

Still, he is unsure. Can I ever convince him to believe me?

"You must study the holy texts of Vialism. No more of those stories. They distract your mind. I do not understand why Keons keeps them around."  
He looks at me earnestly. I am unsure about this, as the stories Keons's library are one of the few things that get me through my day. I nod, anyway. "In fact, stay in your region. Keons has his own to tend to. If you need guidance, you will come to me." I won't even be able to see Keons?  
"You still are undecided. You must make the decision that you believe. Pay attention to all that you are taught. Beware your mind, let it be content. Do not allow it to wander. It holds you back. Seek me out often. I shall guide you." He smiles, a sharp, cruel grin. I have never seen him smile before. "I am glad to see you have come to your senses, child. Now, you must go home. Your mother must be out of her mind with worry."

I almost wish he would smear me again, so I could shrug off the weight of what I have done, be returned to blessed oblivion. I know, however, that this is something I must live with.

"Let's go," Nico said, impatient. I allow him to lead me to my apartment.

A look of displeasure crosses her face when she sees that Nico has escorted me here, where I was supposed to be all along. 

"Where have you been, Carnation? You mustn't go off like this, you should know by now! Nico, what has she done now?I am terribly sorry for any inconvenience-"

"Why must you blabber on so, Mildred?" I will not laugh. Good Vialist Carnation should not. 

"I am terribly sorry, Nico." 

"Our Carnation had been moved so greatly by our Vialist Code of Conduct, she was inspired to seek me out, to learn to have faith and be a better citizen of our glorious city."

"Oh! Carnation, is this true?"

"Would I make up such things, Mildred?" Nico's glare nearly freezes my insides.

"Well! I'm proud of you. I knew you would see the truth one day. Now, Carnation, you must go to bed and rest. You have had such an intense day. And Nico, you must have much to do. Do not let us keep you."

"Yes indeed."

"And thank you so much for helping my daughter. I look forward to seeing her find her place here. Perhaps, one day, among the Glorified?"

"Perhaps."

Nico thinks I could be a Glorified! Imagine, me being held in such honor. The girl who could never quite do what she was supposed to, a Glorified! So there is hope for me after all. The girl who escaped. I now know I don't need to run.

Once I return to my bedroom, I place my collection of old stories out of view, remembering Nico's words, though I want to read them. I lie down and close my eyes, waiting for sleep to come. For hours, it does not, and my mind is haunted by the memory of Chlorine's face before she left me, try as I may to will it away. Even once I finally fall asleep, those pained, disappointed eyes follow me into my dreams. As much as I try, I cannot quiet the questions running through my mind tonight.

Have I done the right thing?

Chlorine is gone. Now I see a maze of grey halls like any other in this city, leading underground, where there will soon be a door. This door is where I must go. I fill with a strange hopes I draw nearer. Before I reach it, Chlorine is back. Her shocked face soon changes to one of warning. The Bishop's hands slide darkness over my neck and it all fades away. 

I hope I will forget this all by morning, but I know I will not, ever again.


	27. Chapter 27

Aster jumped, startled by the sudden flicker of a just-lit torch behind her, below the perfect vantage point she had climbed to higher on the rocks. The faintest of light had just appeared in the sky over Trench, turning it from pitch black to the deepest blue. Soon, the sun would rise over the cliffs, the sky would glow pink and orange and gold, reflected in the creek below, and the Banditos would begin to wake. For now, though, it was peaceful, just Aster and the vast beauty of Trench bathed in blue-toned shadow. Until she senses a most unwelcome presence on the rock beside her.

"Couldn't sleep?" Annaki gruffly asked.

Aster shook her head. "I usually wake up early and watch the sky. It's so very different here, no walls to block anything." 

A most curious look came into his eyes. "Shouldn't go too far from the camp, alone."

She was reminded of Bishops, gently leading her away from things they didn't want their residents to see. "Why?"

"Just not safe."

"Dema was safe," muttered Aster, turning her back to the disagreeable Bandito.

"You shouldn't climb so high either. Could fall."

She paid no attention to him. The sun began its journey through the sky, filling it with pale, watery light.

"You are impossible, girl. Fine. Do what you want, be careless, I do not care." She caught sight of him wiping his eyes with the kerchief he kept tied around his neck before storming away. Odd. She felt a bit guilty for her attitude, but she was tired of being controlled. She was not in Dema anymore.

 

"What is the matter, Aster?" asked her new friend Nat, the girl who had welcomed her when she arrived, as they ate together by the big fire. 

"Annaki is always bossing me around."

"Oh, he does that to everyone. My father was like that too. Even bossed my mother around."

"Well, Annaki is not my father or my Bishop either. I hoped to be free of that here. Though this is a good deal better than Dema."

"It really is. I remember how different it felt, after my mother and I escaped. Don't let Annaki ruin it for you. You know, my mother says he used to be different. He was always difficult but much less bitter. Something happened with this lover of his and he hasn't been the same since. "

"Hey, maybe this lost love of Annaki's was a Bishop. They'd be perfect for each other. Maybe they even have a horrid Bishop child somewhere."

Nat laughs. 

"What are you two talking about?" Nat's mother, Shayne asks, appearing behind them. "Have some food, both of you. Jenna was on cooking duty this morning so we know it's delicious." 

Jenna is the best cook out of anyone at the camp. She is also one of the sweetest people Aster has ever met.

"Thank you, Shayne, you're so very kind. Yes, girls, you better get your food now or else I fear Josh will eat it all."

Josh elbowed Jenna playfully. "I wouldn't!"

"You would and you know it! I will have to hide the food from you."

"This is all lies. You shouldn't lie to Aster, Jenna, it's no way to treat the new girl." Josh turns to Aster. "You starting to get used to things around here?" 

She nods, unable to keep from smiling. She likes Josh. He's friendly, a little quiet, and doesn't boss her around. 

"Eat, Aster!" cries Nat, handing her a plate. She does, relishing how much better everything seems to taste out here. The sun has risen in the sky, and between its light and the fire, the camp feels pleasantly warm and bright. 

"Isn't the food so good?" Shayne asks. "I actually enjoy food out here. The food in Dema was always so tasteless. No joy in it whatsoever."

"Yes, it is so pleasant out here," Aster agrees. "Except for some people," she muttered.

"Oh, it' s Annaki, isn't it? Is he still bothering you? I'm very sorry." She laughed quietly to herself.

"What is it?"

"It was the strangest thing. Something about your expression. You almost reminded me of him for a moment. Goodness." She shook her head, whispering something that sounded like "It couldn't be."

Aster looked across the fire to where Annaki was sitting, arguing with one of the other Banditos.

"-Why they insist on keeping her there-"

"-Best for her-"

"-Best for the girl is to bring her back home at once-"

Was he talking about Aster? Did he still want her gone?

She was feeling very strange all of a sudden as he suddenly stared at her, this time not with contempt. No, with something almost more frightening. 

Recognition.


	28. Chapter 28

Carnation's POV

The next few days, Chlorine is not there for lessons. I tell myself I do not care. I never want to see her again. Not after she turned my world upside down. Though I suppose I should be grateful to her, for inspiring me to be a better citizen of Dema. I barely recognize myself, these days. I go through each day's routines without deviation, complaint, or anything that anyone could find at all suspect. I eat when I am supposed to eat, sleep when I am supposed to sleep, and always am where I'm supposed to be. I go to lessons and complete my tasks and studies in a proper and timely matter. In free minutes, I study the Vialist Holy Text or recite my Benedictions Of The Glorified by the light of the Vialae. I have even taken to going to some of the smaller Convocations held regularly throughout each moon cycle. At first, my mother does not believe this change is real. Soon, though, she begins to show something like pride. 

"Good girl," she whispers to me as I return from a lesson or Convocation, as I represent my Bishop with honor, as I dutifully carry out the traditions expected of a proper Vialist.

"I have heard," she whispers to me one day, "That Nico has said that if you keep this up, you may perhaps someday be among the ranks of the Glorified."

Me, a Glorified. If anyone had mentioned that a few weeks ago, we all would have scoffed at the idea. Now, it could be a real possibility. The girl who had once attempted to escape the city, perhaps to one day be bestowed the greatest honor the place could offer. Indeed, even Nico seemed to have changed his feelings about me, nodding with approval when he saw me in place of the disdainful glower I had grown used to over the years. Strange how such praise can feel so empty. 

With my newfound adherence, my abilities strengthened, becoming more controllable and clearer. No longer did my hands spontaneously darken as the power from which it stemmed roiled in rage and disgust. Now, it comes when I called for it. Though I avoid doing anything unsanctioned by the City, I make an exception for the cultivation of my potential capabilities. Under Neena's guidance, behind closed doors, I began to learn to conduct a Water-ritual. Though I was still unable to achieve the heightened focus that the Bishops possessed, I had begun to make progress toward something similar. Still, the waters in the basin roiled with tension.

"It's still there, though you have locked it deep inside you," Neena says. "Somewhere deep inside, you are still unsure. You are still struggling. You must let it go. It holds you back." Her words, so similar to Nico's that fateful day, dig into me. How will I ever let it go, when it has always been there, tormenting me? The water swirls violently, threatening to spill over, out of the basin that traps it. Barely contained. I focus, and it calms, though it still appears to be tossing under the surface.

Soon, I am plagued with visions nearly nightly. I do not tell Neena about them. They are all of things I would rather forget. The escape attempt replays, over and over. Sometimes, I wear a Bishop's cloak and veil. The others circle around me. A vulture screams. Other times, I see a strange place, and a girl who is almost me, but not. Or else, I am back in Dema with a boy who furiously types out a warning. And Chlorine. Almost always Chlorine. She visits me every night in my dreams, though I do not see her for a bit over a week. Sometimes, the dreams take on an odd quality of tenderness, and we murmur softly to each other until she presses her lips to mine. Those are the worst. 

One morning, after waking from such a dream, I finally see her. She does not look at me. She seems a bit deflated, but somehow still proud. I must pay her no mind. Some days, I catch her looking at me still, like she is pleading with me to see something that she sees. I pretend I do not see. I pray I one day do not feel like I am breaking whenever I see her.

"You are so different, now," Arianne remarks. 

"I know," I reply.

She and Neena believe it is because I have finally recovered from my smearing. If only they knew. When we are alone, Neena theorizes that it is because I have begun to come to terms with my abilities. Neither will ever know the truth.

 

I find the sketch of Gloriana on my bed. She seems to be looking at me reproachfully. I fold the paper as small as I can, under my pillow, where I cannot see it. I pretend it doesn't haunt me. 

I tell myself I am on the right path now. Nearly everyone seems to think so, anyway. They smile and nod their approval. Of course, I can always do better, anyway. Even with their approval, Nico and my mother do not forget to remind me of that. That is just how it will be.

I continue to tell myself that as Chlorine continues her silent plea for me to change her mind, as a boy a few years older than me mutters about cowardice and people not to be trusted as I pass. They must be wrong. They must be. I am right. I know that. I must be. 

Knowing something and believing it, however, are very different things. So I kneel beside my Vialae, and I pray that I will wholly believe it, too, and soon. That it will give me what I need to keep the broken feeling that has hung over me lately at bay.

If my conviction is strong enough, I tell myself, the rest will come.


	29. Chapter 29

From today's Convocation, I have learned two things. The first is that all these Convocations are sort of the same. The second is that I do not like Reisdro. At all. Though I usually do not have much cause to encounter him, he is the Bishop leading this Convocation that I have gone to in an attempt to stop Nico's disappointment in me, which is slowly creeping back despite how hard I'm working to represent him with honor. But no matter how hard I try, Nico is never pleased for very long. Maybe he never is with anyone. That would really explain a lot about some of the people in his region, actually. I wonder if he is never pleased with my mother, and that's why she is so desperate to please him. Why she cared about a Bishop more than her own daughter. Perhaps I would become her. 

 

A memory comes to me, unbidden. Please, please no. Not this. Anything but this. I beg it to disappear, but it only becomes more persistent.

I am small, only in my fifth year, and I am sitting quietly, waiting for my mother to return from a visit to Nico. I do not understand why she visits Nico so much, since he always makes her so sad. I hate Nico. He's mean and scary. I used to always hide when I saw him. She should go to Keons instead. He's far away, but he isn't mean and he has stories.

My mother returns, looking unhappy as usual. 

"Are you ok, mother?" She ignores me. "Mother, why do you go to Nico if he's mean? Why don't you stay with me? I'm not mean."

She turns to me, suddenly, a blaze of fury in her eyes. "Nico says you don't love me."

I am used to this. "That isn't true," I say. 

"Then why did Nico say it?"

"I don't know why Nico lies."

"You are ungrateful!" she shrieks. "You do not speak of our Bishop in this way! And you do not love me, I know it!"

"No, I think you don't love me," I say. "You only love Nico. And maybe if he saw you being mean to me, he would smear you. So stop it."

I block out her screaming, something about how Nico would smear me, not her, and how heartless I was. I couldn't take it anymore.

"You are not my real mother!" I scream back at her before running away. She shrieks terrible things then, but I do not listen. She must not be my real mother. She cannot be. It is like one of Keons's fairy tales, and my real mother will return, disgusted at how this false mother has treated me. She will be punished, and I will get to be a princess and wear a pretty dress instead of grey. Perhaps I will even marry a prince. Or maybe another princess. I might like that better. And I will live in a castle that isn't in Dema, and Nico will be thrown in a dungeon. 

The fantasy eventually fades, over the years, as it was evident no kind real mother would arrive. It was replaced with the thought that perhaps made me what I now was. Maybe, if I was a Bishop, my mother would love me.

 

The woman beside me coughs, bringing my attention back to the Bishop before us. He is conducting a Water-ritual, and seems to be staring directly at me. He can't be, I tell myself. He doesn't even know me. Still, I am understanding now why Reisdro frightens even Chlorine, who seems not to fear anything. I will not be in any hurry to put myself back in his presence in pursuit of Nico's fleeting pride. With any luck, this Convocation will soon end. 

The Convocation, in fact, seemed to be the longest I had ever experienced. Perhaps, I began to think, I would be trapped in this Convocation hall forever, lectured by horrid Reisdro. The vultures would be preferable. And quicker. I really am not having a good attitude today, Nico would say. I must fix that. I sit up straighter, trying to get all I can from this Convocation. Still, I am grateful when it is finally over. I make my way toward the exit as quickly as I can, only to be stopped by an icy hand on my back. I am gripped by a terrible, indescribable feeling. Reisdro reeks of it. It fills his whole region, I recall, and it pulls my mind back to the day I almost escaped, the tunnels, the door, the last second of despair before I collapsed from the smearing. Though now I wonder if perhaps I should have thanked all that was glorious that it was not this Bishop that found me. I shake my head. I must not think of that incident at all. 

"Hello, little girl. Gloriana, is it?"

"My name is Carnation. Gloriana was my aunt."

"Right, right," Reisdro chuckles. "Carnation. Such an odd name."

I take it he did not stop me just to comment on my name. The reference to Gloriana was very intentional. Would this be about the Incident? I began to plan in my head what I would say. I must take care not to anger this Bishop. I would say how I had been trying to reform myself, to be a better Vialist. That this was why I was at this Convocation. That I never even thought about escaping anymore. It was all true. I barely wondered anymore what I would have found behind that door, deep below the region of this very Bishop. I wouldn't allow myself to.

I opened my mouth, prepared to begin my speech about new, improved Carnation, only to be cut off by Reisdro before I even got to start. 

"Yes, yes, I have heard of your attempts to better yourself. I have my doubts about your sincerity, myself, but if this is your true intent, I suppose it is honorable. You are afraid, I can sense that much, and that is a start. Your fear may yet save you. It is those who lack it who are so terribly lead astray."

I stare blankly at him, at a loss for words.

"Yes. You thought we believed you. Foolish girl. You think Nico would believe you after all those years? After what you've done? Well, like I said, you may yet prove us wrong. Honor us for however long you have left and then bring far more honor as an early Glorified. Perhaps then you will be worth something. Perhaps then you will be loved. You must only remember to never trust what's inside of you. Fear it, girl. Fear it well and you will be saved."

Not trust what is inside of me? That is what Nico has been saying, too, in his own way. I had always thought that it was all I could trust. It was all I had to get me through this. But it was what lead me to try to escape, to hate this life. Nico was right, it was holding me back. 

He was right, too, about my worthlessness. I could sense that too. I bow my head in shame. I remember all the times Nico said I should have been fed to the vultures upon my arrival into this world and realize with a cold sense of security that settles like a stone inside me that he is right. What a lot of trouble it would have saved. 

"One last thing, child. Do not let anyone lead you off your glorious path, is that understood? If you have any problems, please tell myself or Nico. I will make sure whoever is responsible is punished. Severely."

Chlorine. That must be who he is speaking of. How much does he know of her? Is she in danger? Should I warn her? No, Carnation. She must be punished if she steps out of line. Reisdro is correct. 

Still, I wouldn't wish him on anyone.

"Remember my words. Think on them. And go home. Be quick about it."

I do not need to be told twice. I leave the Assemblage hall as fast as I can without seeming suspicious. I want to get as far from Reisdro as possible. I freeze at the tap of another hand on my back, fearing the Bishop has followed me. But no, this hand isn't as cold as his. The actual identity of my pursuer, however, shocks me even more. The man who lived down the hall, the one I hadn't seen in years. So he hadn't made it out for good, after all. He holds onto me desperately.

"It is time to wake up, child." 

"What do you speak of? This is not a dream. This is all I have."

"You must want to know what is out there. I remember you. You cannot keep living like this, in here. You know that."

"I do not understand what you are saying," I carefully reply.

"Wake up," he cries urgently. "WAKE UP!"

I run, then, as fast as my legs will carry me. 

"It is not I you need run from, child. They lie. You are asleep. Wake up!"

Even when I finally make it far enough that I cannot hear him, even when I have made it home, his words still haunt me. They enter my dreams, mixing with Reisdro's. They stay with me as I actually wake up the next morning, pulling me between two very different sides. I thought I believed the Bishops, now, but the seed of doubt that I now realize has always been there has begun to grow, fueled by the man's words, unhindered by the Bishop's.

Wake up. 

Your fear may yet save you.

Wake up.

Wake up.

I'm not asleep. Am I?

Perhaps I am.


	30. Chapter 30

I try to continue on as I have been for the past weeks, but I find I can't anymore. It has not been the same since the encounter with the man from down the hall. Something about him makes me want to listen. More than that, I find that I feel I need to listen. He is trying to tell me something. After I realize it is no use trying to carry on as if it is all the same as before, I try to find him, to no avail. I pray that he wasn't smeared on my account. I' m certainly not worth it. Not after all this. Perhaps, not ever. This seems to be something that nearly everyone has realized long ago. The man's words are not the only ones that have lingered. Everywhere I go, Reisdro's words seem to follow me, a soft hiss that surrounds me unceasingly.

The man was right, I realize one day, sitting in lessons and listening to Marian say the same things in different ways. I am asleep. We all are. I knew that once, before I was smeared. I saw how everyone sleepwalked through their lives, and I had wanted something more for my life. I wanted to see what else was out there. So I tried to escape. That idea shocks me less now. Yes, this place is where I'm from, and it seems like it will always hold me in its grip, but I had not felt its was my home. And yet, there was a sense of attachment to the place, from all the things I've been told all my life, from the fact that it is all I've ever known. I'd have to work on that if I did want to escape again. Do I? I am still unsure. More than that, I'm unsure that I can leave. It seems so impossible. This man, who I know now must have tried to leave for years, is still here. That is definitely disheartening. It is proof that Dema's hold on its residents never really goes away. What if its hold on me is too strong? Is it better to have left and yet have all you have discovered be so quickly pulled away from you, or to never have left at all? I think of Gloriana. She left, and then was brought back. It would seem that the possibility of having to spend the rest of her life here again had killed her. It's something I can understand. Now, it is starting to seem to me that living the rest of my life in devotion to Vialism, as if I had still forgotten, would kill me. It is strange how my mind could change so quickly, how something I had resigned myself to could suddenly seem so unbearable.

There was a chance I could make it, I remind myself. That girl who escaped during the Annual Assemblage was never found. If she could make it, perhaps I could too. There were probably more like her, too, who had successfully made it out. And, of course, there were Banditos, it would seem. Perhaps if I made it out I could join with them. But who would want me? I was not like them. Maybe I could not survive out there. Maybe in here was where I belonged. This morning, I had woken up to find my fingers smudged with darkness. That had not happened in weeks. Surely that, and all that it stood for would be repulsive in this world outside. And it was disturbing that it was beginning to go out of control, again. Recently, I had been able to control it, instead of the other way around. Maybe it was a sign that how I was living before was right, all along. Was a life of sleep and control the best life I would hope for?

I still have time, I remind myself. I wouldn't just leave tomorrow. Not when I'm still not sure I even want to leave. But I find I want to know more, and this conflict is eating away at me. So I decide it is time to ask a question I have been wanting to ask, but can't seem to find the courage to actually go about doing it. Well, I best draw up that courage soon. It was clear I needed to talk to someone about all that has happened and my current conflict, or else it will get worse and worse. There is only one person I can talk to about this. If she will speak to me.

I linger in the lesson-hall today, ignoring Neena as she complains about how long I am taking. Finally, she leaves, probably expecting me to follow. I do not. Soon after, Chlorine leaves, and this time I do follow her. I feel a little guilty, but I need to get her alone, and besides, it's not like she hasn't followed me before. She doesn't acknowledge me at first, or perhaps doesn't see me. She has studiously ignored me a lot lately, so I wouldn't be surprised if it was the former. I didn't care for awhile, or at least told myself I didn't, but being so near to her again has made me realize I sort of miss her. She shows no sign, however, of harboring any similar feelings.

Finally, when I can't stand it anymore, I speak. 

"Chlorine?" I am humiliated to discover that I sound like I am near tears. 

She whirls around, stone-faced. The look in her eyes is so cold. "What do you want?"

I understand why she is angry at me. I do. I would be angry at me, too. Actually, I kind of am. What I do not understand is why it hurts so much.

"I wanted to ask you something." Please, please, all that is glorious, make my voice stop sounding so pathetic. 

She stands there, stonily.

"Say something. Please."

Her eyes narrowed. "Why? You're not my Bishop. And even If you were, I wouldn't obey unquestioningly. That's you. And I have nothing to say to you. You're the only one who has anything to say, so why don't you say something?"

I can't, now. If I talk I will cry and I do not cry. Especially in front of her.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Say it. Or better yet, go talk to Nico instead. And don't ever speak to me again. I'm leaving soon, anyway. Tell your precious Bishops that." She turns around and storms away.

"Wait!"

She ignores me. I run after her. This day has gotten really embarrassing, really fast.

And wait, she's leaving?

I finally catch up to her. "I met Reisdro the other day."

"You... What?" She seems to soften instantly. "Good glory, Carnation, what happened? You didn't talk to him, did you?"

"I went to a Convocation he was leading. You know I've been going to more of those lately."

She stiffens. "Actually, I have not really noticed or cared what you did." Alright, then.

"You know, you seem to care an awful lot about making sure I know you don't care about me." She glares. "Anyway, he stopped me as I was leaving and started talking to me."

"Did you say anything about me?"

"He asked. But I didn't say anything."

"Oh. Thank you. That's pretty nice of you. I would have assumed you told."

I ignore the last comment.

"Anyway, something happened afterward. And something changed."

"Oh?" She opened a nearby door and pulled me into a room that must be hers.

"I ran into this man as I headed home. He lived down the hall from me when I was a child. He used to sing. Or sometimes, on bad nights, he'd scream. He escaped, one night. I saw him. But he was brought back. He must have tried several times. I saw Nico dragging him, once."

"Ah, that must be Tyler. Didn't know you knew him."

"I didn't, really."

"Yeah, he keeps trying to escape. He hasn't made it out for good yet. Maybe one day. He keeps trying and that's what matters." She gestures to her bed. "Sit." I do, and she settles down beside me. Something feels different, now.

"He gave me a flower, once," I remember. "I'd never seen one like it before."

"What did it look like? Was it yellow?" 

"What does that mean? Yellow?" 

Her eyes soften. "Oh, I forgot for a minute you wouldn't know. Was it an unusual color to you? Kinda warm, like the sun? A bit hopeful looking, somehow?"

I nod. 

"That's yellow. I will show you, one day. We use a lot of it in Trench. The Bishops can't see it."

I can apparently see it. Does that mean I'm not a Bishop? "I think I saw some tape that was this yellow on a statue, once."

"That would be the Underground."She watches me. "Wait, what does this mean? Are you ready to accept what you have remembered, now?"

I fidgeted, unsure what to say. My hand accidentally brushed against hers and I felt lightheaded all of a sudden. 

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" My face grew warm. I looked at her. She had the strangest look on her face, and she didn't answer me. What if I had somehow smeared her or something? 

"Don't apologize!" Her voice sounded strange too.

"Are you ok?" I ask. I will never forgive myself if I smeared her.

"I'm great! Why do you ask?" Her face reddens. What have I done? 

Neither of us talk for a few moments. Just when it begins to get awkward, Chlorine turns toward me.

"What were we talking about again?" She's forgetting now. This is just glorious. What did I do? 

I finally decided to talk as if nothing had happened and hope she remembered.

"When I saw Tyler, he told me to wake up. And I realized I was asleep. He was right, it was time for me to wake up. I couldn't continue this way. I had been trying to make people proud of me, finally. Show I wasn't worthless. I didn't know what to do after you told me what you did, so I tried to pretend it hadn't happened. To be better, if that makes sense. I was scared. But it was killing me. And I talked to Reisdro and I felt totally worthless again. Now I don't know what I think or want and I'm trying to figure it out."

Her eyes haven't left me the whole time I spoke. There is something tender in them, now. She nods. "That makes sense. I guess I didn't think about how you would feel. I can't imagine thinking this place was all there is. I feel so trapped, and I know I could leave if I really wanted to with minimal risk of having to return. I can't imagine what you must have felt."

She puts her arm around me and I let her, this time. She is warm. I worry I will smear her again, but I have hugged Keons in the past and been ok, so she probably will be too.

"Also, don't listen to Reisdro. He twists everything. They all do. Don't let them, alright? You aren't worthless."

"Thank you."

"Now, what did you want to talk about?"

I had planned to ask what it was like in Trench. But the sky was darkening and I didn't really know if I had the energy to say anything else today.

I told her that and she smiled. "I get that. Well, come back soon, ok? We can talk about whatever you need."

"But I thought you were leaving?"

"No, not for awhile. One day, though. Maybe you can come too?"

I wanted to, I realized. I really did. But could I?

"You don't have to worry about that now, though!" She added quickly.

"It's alright. Well, see you tomorrow."

"Yes, tomorrow."

I feel lighter than I've felt in so long. Since the day I almost made it out, actually. 

Until I return home, to my mother and the weight of her and Nico's expectations.


	31. Chapter 31

With my mother's glare, all the warmth of my recent proximity to Chlorine falls away, replaced by harsh, cold reality. I have failed, and she knows. I don't know what exactly she knows, but she suspects something, and any second now...

"Why were you so late to return after lessons? Nobody could find you. I was about to send Nico. And you've been doing so well lately, too."

"I was just walking around and lost track of time, that's all."

The lines on her forehead deepen as her eyes narrow in suspicion. "You are acting odd again."

"I really am not, mother." I want nothing more than for her to leave me alone, so I can try to regain some of this wonderful feeling that I had before.

"Please, Carnation. You have made such progress. Don't just throw it away. Nico says you have such potential." I do not care anymore. Sleeping away the rest of my life here was seeming less and less appealing by the minute. Perhaps I would leave with Chlorine. I force myself to hide he smile that surfaces at the thought of all that could happen, how different it could be. I cannot wait to see Chlorine again and find out more.

I also realize my mother and everyone else cannot realize that my mind has changed. No matter how difficult it is, I must carry on as if everything is the same and pray everyone believes the act. So I do.

Lessons the next day are unbearable. Marian is irritable and seems to pick on me. Darlena seems determined to make me lose my temper. Neena is being too perceptive, and worst of all, I am forced to ignore Chlorine, hoping she will get the message and understand why. 

Darlena hisses something to Joelle about how I am still a disgrace to the City and that Nico doesn't truly accept me. He was forced to because he pities my mother, but I will never become a proper Glorified. I almost laugh at how ridiculous it is. If only she knew. 

When Neena is occupied by our assigned reading from the Vialist Holy Text, Chlorine walks by. 

"Meet me again later?" she whispers, almost imperceptibly.

I nod, trying to hide my joy at the thought of more time with her. 

 

"Carnation." Neena elbows me, hard. 

"Ow! What?" Did I miss something?

"I said, we should practice more after lessons. Your water-rituals have been a mess lately," she whispers.

What could I do? I already had planned to meet Chlorine. What would she think if I didn't make it?

"I haven't been feeling well lately. I'm sorry. Maybe tomorrow?"

"Maybe that's why you've been so weird again. If you really aren't feeling well, you should go home."

"It is important to work to represent our Bishop with honor, even when we don't feel our best. I can make it through lessons."

I notice Chlorine staring at me, that odd look back in her eyes. Oh, no.

"Neena, have you ever accidentally smeared someone?"

"What? No, I've never smeared anyone. What are you talking about?"

"I may have accidentally smeared somebody."

"Who?"

"Chlorine."

"Oh. Good job."

"What? Good job? No, this is not good. At all! What do I do, Neena?"

She ignored me.

"Neena!"

"Ok what happened?"

"I needed to talk to her about something-No, it isn't your business, alright?- and I was trying to get comfortable and fidgeting and our hands accidentally touched and then she started acting really weird."

"You didn't smear her, idiot."

"What?"

"First of all, that isn't how smearing works. Second of all, you would know if you smeared her because she would have the marks, which she doesn't. She's just being weird because she is weird. And so are you, silly girl." She pokes me, and I can't help but laugh, choosing to ignore her dismissal of this girl who has made me happier than I've ever been in so long. I need to laugh with my best friend, to feel like everything is normal at least for a little while.

Lessons end. This time, Chlorine is one of the first to leave, and I am eager to join her. Neena, however, has other ideas, trapping me for what feels like forever though it can't have been more than a few minutes with this story of some encounter she had with a boy down the hall from her and this vision she had. 

"Come on, Neena," I finally said. "My mother will be mad." 

"Oh, alright," she replied. "Don't smear anyone today." 

I then have to pretend to be heading home to avoid her suspicion. I finally manage to shake her, only to run into Arianne, who asks me questions about things she didn't get in today's lesson. Which I hadn't really been paying attention to, unfortunately for both of us. I tell her that I don't really know and she walks away, disappointed. As an afterthought, I suggest she ask Neena. That should keep them both out of my way for awhile. 

 

"I thought you weren't coming after all!" Chlorine pouts when I finally reach her. 

"Me too, honestly," I say as she pulls me through the door. "Neena suddenly decided she needed to tell me this whole story then Arianne was asking me all these questions about the lesson, and of course today was the day I was paying absolutely no attention. It's really a miracle I'm here at all."

"Well, I'm glad you are," she said, smiling softly. She looks so sweet when she smiles. And then I turn into an idiot. Look, Carnation, you've been sitting here dumbly for almost a full minute. Say something.

"Are you alright?" she asks. "You seem so distant today." 

"What? Yes, I'm ok."

"You ignored me in lessons today. I thought you changed your mind and regretted ever talking to me. " 

"No! That's not true." I brace myself for the screaming, the guilt that would follow such a statement from my mother. It doesn't come.

"What's wrong? You look scared."

I cannot tell her about my mother, that is stupid. And maybe my mother is right and if I tell Chlorine what she says, she'll agree and won't want me around anymore. And now I sound just like my mother, all paranoid. Glorious.

"Please tell me. Was it Reisdro?" She sounds angry. Now I could never tell her.

"Was it Nico? Please, you're scaring me."

"No."

"What is it?"

"I can't tell you. You sound mad and you will probably yell at me and hate me and I don't want you to."

"What? I won't yell at you. Who's been yelling at you? Maybe I'll yell at them."

"It's my mother. Whenever I do something that she doesn't like, she will make me feel so guilty and scream at me. I'm never good enough for her."

"Wow. I'm sorry. I remember my mother told me Gloriana didn't get along with her sister. It makes sense if she behaves this way."

"Yes, and she doesn't listen to anyone but Nico. She tries so hard to please him but he will never be pleased. And she doesn't understand why I'm no like that. Though I have been, more recently. That's why I ignored you earlier, by the way. I have to act like everything is the same. I can't have aanyone getting suspicious."

"I see."

"But I don't want to keep living like this. I don't want my life to just be tasks that feel meaningless and lessons and Convocations and trying so hard to please a Bishop who will never see me as anything but a disappointment and a mother who always finds fault with me until I die. I may as well be dead now. It's not like I'm truly living."

"I understand. I understand perfectly. And it's important that you realize what you do about Nico. Takes some of his power away. Keep meeting me, alright? We can talk about whatever you need."

I nod.

"We can ignore each other in lessons, pretend everything is normal."

I wish we didn't have to do that, but it's the only choice I have. 

She takes my hand suddenly. I wonder if she feels the same thing I do. 

"We will figure something out, ok? We will not be trapped in here forever." She stares into my eyes. It is so intense that I want simultaneously to look away and to never take my eyes off of her. I feel so strange but good, and wish I could feel like this forever.

I realize she is waiting for a reply, and wonder how long we've been staring at each other. I look down, embarrassed all of a sudden.

"Alright," I say. Everything feels different, now.

I realized I have still not let go of her hand. 

 

 

Author's Note: Hey guys! I'm doing a pre-college thing for the next 2 weeks and will be staying at a dorm and will probably be pretty busy. I will try to write at least one chapter, but I do not know if/when that can happen. Thank you all for reading, and thank you in advance for your patience. I'm excited to see where this story will go.


	32. Chapter 32

When they thought Aster wasn't listening, they whispered. She didn't know what they were saying, but the whispers followed her wherever she went. All she knew was that since that fateful night when something seemed to almost click upon Annaki's eye contact with her, all of Trench was engaged in a sort of speculation about her connection to him. Even Shayne and Nat were not immune to the lure of whispers: Aster often heard hushed murmurs followed by abrupt silences as she drew near, accompanied by guilty faces. At first she tried to avoid them, spending time mainly with Joshua, who was the one person who did not whisper. One day, though, she heard a commotion outside and, upon investigating, discovered Joshua accompanied by another man about his age. The second man was shaking slightly, and it was clear he had just arrived from Dema. His neck bore the faded markings that revealed he had been smeared not too long in the past.

His eyes caught on Aster and fixed on her, for so long that she began to feel ill at ease.

"So you made it out already, I see? You have woken up, after all. Oh, but you look so different, little flower." He continues to stare at her as she edges away slightly. 

What is this man talking about? Aster feels quite sure she has never seen him before in her life, but he seemed to be referring to her name. Joshua watches him, confused.

The man shakes his head. "No, no. I have made a dreadful mistake."

Joshua steps closer. The man leans in closer to Aster.

"This is the wrong one."

"Tyler, when have you last slept?" Joshua puts a hand on the man, presumably Tyler's, shoulder. He visibly calmed down, but his eyes still did not leave Aster's face. 

"I saw her." 

"What is he talking about?" Aster demanded. 

"I'm so sorry, but I fear I have no idea. He appears to have been smeared somewhat recently. Perhaps you two had crossed paths at some point in Dema, before you escaped?"

She looks back at Tyler. "I have never seen him before." 

He stared like he was trying to convey something urgent.

"You must find her. Dema is no place for a flower to grow, especially one the Bishops consider a weed." 

"Come on, Tyler." Joshua led him away, looking back apologetically at Aster. "I will try to find out what he is trying to tell us, after he rests."

 

She paces nearby, wondering what the meaning of this is. Does it have anything to do with why so many of the Banditos are behaving so oddly? What does this Tyler know about her? He seems so sure he knows her, but she has no recollection of ever meeting him. His words linger in her mind. _The wrong one._ It all reminds her of something, but she is unsure what. Just as she thinks she is about to remember something important, Annaki storms over to her.

"You need to leave now," he growls. 

"Excuse me?" Surely he cannot be telling Aster to leave Trench. What is this about? She wonders if this isn't about what Tyler had said earlier, and if Annaki isn't trying to keep her from this information, whatever it is.

"I need you to get away from Tyler. He is dangerous to you right now. A risk to everyone, really." So this _was_ about Tyler. 

"So because of that you are asking me to leave Trench. Are you sure you don't just want me gone? That seems to have been your plan all along." Aster tries as hard as she can not to raise her voice. 

"No! This is so you can stay in Trench, do you hear me? Now listen to me, and listen well, or you will find yourself back in Dema tonight."

"What are you talking about? I've been in Trench for many moon cycles, now. I really do not think there is much danger of me getting taken back to the City."

"I'd advise you not to let your guard down. You never know when a Bishop will ride in here and take everything." Aster remembers the stories of the girl who came from Dema, years ago. The girl Annaki loved. If the stories were true, a Bishop had come and brought her back to Dema, despite the fact that she had been there nearly a year. It made sense, she supposed, that he would be so anxious about the potential arrival of Bishops in Trench. But why is he so concerned with Aster, despite his apparent lack of concern for Tyler? As she stood there, he was mumbling about how Tyler always brought the Bishops and that it was a risk to the entire camp. 

"But how do you know this time will not be different?" she asked, unable to listen to any more of this. "Maybe the Bishops will not come."

"Aster, he has been attempting to escape for years. He has never made it. The Bishops will come. They always do. He cannot help but bring them." If the Bishops take Tyler away, Aster will never get answers. She is sure of that.

"Well," she tries, "You are Banditos, aren't you? Why can you not help him?" She sees that Joshua is lingering nearby. Annaki notices him too. Judging from the tension in their eyes as they watch each other, it is clear Joshua must have similar questions. 

"There is nothing we can do once the Bishops enter the picture," Annaki states simply. "Now, Joshua, will you please help Aster find a place to go so she doesn't get herself smeared?" She seethes on the inside. Who is Annaki to decide what Aster can and cannot do? Even Keons, her former Bishop, was less patronizing. 

"I really should stay with Tyler," Joshua says. "Let him know at least one person believes in him." Despite his apparent hope, his manner seemed to suggest that even he was unsure Tyler would be in Trench much longer. Well, no wonder, if everyone was thinking this way.

Annaki sighs. "I will take her, then." No, he won't. He cannot keep secrets from her forever. She glares at him, hoping he will miraculously get the message and let her be. Surprisingly, it works. In fact , he looks quite shocked.

"Alright then, Gloriana. Do whatever you want. Don't let me stop you." He pauses, realizing his mistake. "Aster. Aster, sorry." As she leaves, she hears him whispering to Joshua. He puts a hand on Annaki's shoulder.

"-Looked just like her, didn't she?"

Gloriana. The girl Annaki loved. Who Aster apparently reminded her of.

She thought of how Tyler thought he had recognized her, but seemed to have been mistaken. Was that about Gloriana, too? It would make sense for him to be confused, if he was smeared. At least, Aster thought so. She had never been smeared, so she didn't know how it worked.

And if she was so similar to this other girl, what did it mean for her? For Annaki? She had to find Tyler, immediately. 

She heads toward the big fire, where he sits with Jenna. They look like they shouldn't be interrupted. Aster turns away. It is alright. She can talk to Tyler later. Right now, she will find Nat and see what she makes of all of this. 

Is that a horse she hears in the distance? 

"There you are, Aster. You don't know how long we have been looking for you. Come along."

 

For a terrible moment, she thinks it is Keons whose voice she hears. She is relieved to realize it is only Shayne. 

"Annaki was frantic. He said I must find you immediately."

"About him," Aster said. "I have some questions."

Shayne nods. "I'm sure you do."


	33. Chapter 33

I absolutely cannot stand my mother.

It seems not so very long ago that I was sitting hand in hand with Chlorine, realizing that I felt something I thought I was incapable of feeling. And yet, it feels like that was forever ago, in a completely different world. Things like that do not happen in Dema, and I have been cursing myself every day for the past few days for forgetting this. After all, if we were to have true joy and hope, we would have no need for Vialism and Vialae and Bishops and then what would become of us all?

I remembered sitting with Chlorine, our hands still clasped together. I was so unsure of what to do. Should I let go? I did not want to let go. Did she? In Keons’s old books, when people felt this way, they kissed. Should I kiss her? I don’t know if I could do it. Anyway, it may be too soon. What if she didn’t feel the same way? Anyway, in the old stories, it was always a boy and a girl. Never two girls. Could a girl love another girl the way boys and girls loved each other? Was this love, anyway? Am I sure I am capable of it?

“You have your thinking face on. What are you thinking about?”

“Huh? Oh, nothing. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I like that you’re always thinking about things. Most people here don’t, really.” She smiled. I wanted to say something, but I was having difficulties with forming words. 

“Your hands are cold,” she said. 

“They always are.” I cursed them, my icy Bishop hands. Hers, of course, were always warm. Her whole body seemed to radiate heat. I never realized how cold I was until I settled beside her. Such a warm person should never be with someone like me, cold all the way to the core. She smiled at me, a smile filled with warmth I could never deserve.

“That means you must let me warm them, then.” She covered both of my hands with hers, and for a moment I forget everything that has ever happened in my entire life. For all that the Banditos like to talk about how Bishops make people forget, it would seem they are quite good at that themselves, too. 

“Yours are very warm.”

“They always are,” she echoed. “Good glory, you must always be freezing, being this cold.”

“I don’t notice it, really.”

“Such a cold place, this city. Even the light has no heat to it. You can touch it, and it's still cold. At home, in Trench, the light is so hot that it burns you if you touch it.”

I can imagine what that feels like. Right then, I felt as though I will burn under her touch. I didn’t know what is in her eyes, and it scared me a little. They were so green, and they felt as though they will burn me, too. Whatever this was that lies behind them, it has always been there but has gotten more intense as of late. What does it mean?

“I must go,” I say quickly. Do I imagine it, or does her face fall a little? 

“Yes, of course,” she said.

I stood and made my way to the door. For an awkward moment, I fumbled with the knob, so rattled I forget which way to turn it. She hurried over and opened it for me, brushing herself against me in a very deliberate-seeming way as she did. I somehow managed to step out without incident. A moment later, the door closed behind me, leaving me to wonder if anything that just occurred was real.

It was clear that I was not ready to return home, so I decided to walk around the city until I could return to something close to normal. I kept going, barely noticing my surroundings, until I reached a tiny courtyard just inside Keons's region in which I had spent a lot of time when I was younger. It was a serene place with a melancholy sort of beauty to it, far enough from my region that I was unlikely to be found. A Statue Of The Glorified stood tall and proud, gaze upward and wistful, its pedestal resting in a small pool of water. In it, the statue was reflected, appearing to float upside-down in a bit of sky, shimmering against the pool's stone bottom. I sat on a ledge, remembering when I first discovered the place, years ago. It had seemed then to be the perfect place to find some shred of peace, a place where neither my mother or Nico could pick me apart. I hoped that it would give me the same peace now, so I may return home calmed enough that no suspicions are aroused. I stared at the water without seeing it, so consumed by my still-racing thoughts that I paid no mind to how it rippled and swirled. 

I startled at the light, cool touch on my shoulder. 

"What is the matter, child? I have not seen you in so very long. How have you been faring?"

"Very well, Keons, thank you." It is far from the truth, but it is all I can say.

"I have been worried for you, child. Do be sure to take care."

"Yes. I will, thank you."

"Good girl," he says, distracted. He is watching the water intently. Deep concern begins to creep over his face. "Child, I must go. I would advise you to head home at once. You must keep a close watch all around you. Something comes his way. I can feel it. We all do." I nod.

"And I think," he says softly, "If you trusted yourself, you will feel it too. Be well, Carnation." 

"And you, Keons."

"Make haste. It will mean nothing good for you if you linger." I felt that I should heed him. However I may feel about the Bishops, there was something about Keons that seemed trustworthy. The urgency in his face felt genuine. So I hurried home as quickly as I could, nearly bumping into Neena on the way.

"Oh, there you are, Carnation! I was looking for you!" Her eyes were wide with surprise and relief. But there was something more, too. Keons was correct. Something had happened.

"What is it, Neena?"

"There was a major incident with the Bishops not horribly long ago. Oh, it was awful! Remember the Annual Assemblage? It was like that. Very scary. Nico was furious. And you were right about Reisdro, he really is quite terrifying. You would have just hated it. And I couldn't find you, and I thought you had something to do with it! You had been acting so odd lately!"

"Well, this is the first I'm hearing about this." Nico. Reisdro. Another incident. The way Chlorine's eyes seemed to burn today as she talked about Trench. Could she have decided to make a break for it now, after all? What would that mean for me? I must try to find her. And if I cannot, I will know my hunch has been confirmed. 

"I'm sorry, Neena, there's something I have to do. Thank you for filling me in." I start to walk away, but she grabs my arm. For a moment I can truly see the Bishop she has the potential to be. 

"What you should do is go home. I'm sure Nico's suspicion has already landed on you. Wouldn't want to give him any more reason for doubt. Come on. I'll go with you. Make sure you don't go anywhere you shouldn't." I wondered what, exactly, she knew about what had happened. More than she was letting on, I was almost certain of that.

Anyway, if there had been any sort of issue, I knew my mother's suspicion would already be focused on me. I dreaded my return home, but knew delay would only make it worse. Besides, I was sure she would find out exactly what happened from Nico and turn it into some sort of lecture, so I could at least know I would soon find out what happened, albeit in the most unpleasant way possible. Resigned, I let Neena lead me, knowing I could not afford to cause any sort of trouble right then.

And so I returned, only to find my mother in a foul mood. Apparently this incident had cut short a meeting with Nico- rather fortunately, I thought. He had been putting the most dreadful thoughts in her head. I could barely keep up with all the unusual and disturbing ways I had supposedly behaved as of late, all the ill intentions apparently running through my head. 

"-After all we do for you, you are ever unappreciative!" she railed. "Oh, if only Nico were here to help me handle this! I can scarcely do this on my own- _Look_ at me, Carnation! Do not ignore me when I speak to you!"

"Sorry, mother."

"You certainly should be. But I honestly do not think you are."

"What is it you want from me, mother?"

"Oh, you only think about yourself, don't you? Never a thought for anyone else. I bet thinking of others would never even occur to you, would it?"

All I could do, I reminded myself, was keep calm and wait this out. I could not sink to her level. Anything I did could be used against me at any time, now or in the future. I could not argue. She would listen to nobody but Nico.

"Well, do you have anything you'd like to say?"

I shook my head. She shrieked on about my lack of respect and how she was sure what happened had something to do with me, which would of course damage her precious reputation with Nico and her chances of being a Glorified. For someone who accused me of thinking only about myself, she sure seems to think about herself a good bit. As I tuned out her words, the sound of her voice begun to sound not unlike a vulture's screams. She is really not much unlike a vulture, ever-obedient to the Bishops. Always picking away at things. The thing about vultures, I reminded myself, is that they cannot tear me apart while I am still alive. As long as I live, I can protect what is inside me. None of them will ever get to it. I will make absolute sure of that. 

Finally, she has run out of things to say. Either that or her voice has gotten exhausted. She finishes with a "Now please leave me. I really do not know if I can look at you right now. You and I will finish this conversation later, with Nico." How glorious. I simply cannot wait. 

I nodded, unable to get away fast enough. I sat on my bed, staring blankly at the wall, shocked and disgusted at what I felt coursing through me. Why did she treat me this way? How dare she? What was wrong with her? What was wrong with me? 

I was too afraid to look down at my hands. I should be grateful, at least, that they didn't darken when my mother was there.

Still I sit, thoughts coursing through my head. The anger toward her lingers, though I can feel my hands fading back to normal. This anger, this resentment, is what must be wrong with me. What child cannot stand her own mother?

Finally, even the anger leaves me. The only remaining feeling is a sense that something inside me has been utterly shattered. How many more times must I endure being broken to pieces and treated as if it is something that is wrong with me? 

Deep behind it, though, there is something that cannot be broken. I remember the earlier realization that there are some things she cannot touch, cannot take from me. Even the Bishops cannot. I must hold onto that. It is all I have left.

I think of Chlorine. I pray she has made it out of this place, before it breaks her too.

I pray she has not left without me. I wonder what my life will be if she is gone.

She is right. It is so cold here.


	34. Chapter 34

My mother does not take her eyes off me. I had hoped against all logic that she would eventually lose interest or find something else to do and I could slip out to find what happened, but no such luck. Instead, she has refused to let me stay out of her sight any longer. She had announced that Nico would be coming, but he still hadn't arrived. I couldn't sit still. I kept picturing Chlorine being found by a Bishop, all her spirit and everything that made her who she was smeared right out of her. I could not even convince myself that my concern was just about the possibility of an escape for me, anymore. I found the thought of her being lost to this place even more terrible than the idea of me having to spend the rest of my life here. Unpleasant as it may be, I had grown somewhat resigned to the idea of that life over the years. If what I feared had happen did, I knew that would be my only future. Chlorine, though, was never meant to be here. She burned too bright and could never be cooled to a Vialae glow. 

My mother sighed. "What is wrong now? It's time to sit down. Nico could be here any minute."

I despised when she spoke to me in that voice, the one that said that was that and there would be no arguing. I wanted to tell her to not use that tone with me, the way she so often did when she found anything I said distasteful, but I knew I could never. I was the only one who had to watch my tone out of the two of us.

I wondered why I could not summon these warm feelings for her that I felt for Chlorine. Maybe she was so convinced that they did not exist inside of me that they truly did cease to exist, toward her. I wondered if she felt them for me, either. She must have been concerned about me being in trouble with the Bishops, but her concern would have been very different than mine for Chlorine. My mother would worry about how Nico would react, how it would affect her. I feared that some harm would come to Chlorine. How was it that we still barely knew each other, and yet I could not imagine living without her?

"I said to sit down."

I felt as if invisible hands were wrapped around my neck, applying just enough pressure to make breathing difficult. Cold air rushed down my back. It would seem that Nico was coming after all. As he sailed in, the pressure at my throat lightened to the dull dread that radiated off him the way Chlorine radiated warmth. 

"What has happened?" I cry, trying to hide my concern. Hopefully it appears to be idle curiosity. 

He glares. I do not understand why. Whatever happened, it wasn't my fault this time.

"Carnation! Remember your manners. Nico, I am dreadfully sorry. Carnation feels terrible for any trouble she may have caused you today." Yes. Because it always turns out to be my fault somehow.

"Do not worry, Mildred. She does not seem to be involved, this time." 

"I am relieved, though I plan to keep a closer eye on her." I absolutely cannot wait.

"A wise idea. Though I do wonder why she is so concerned about what happened." I am sitting right here. I do wish the two of them wouldn't speak of me like I wasn't. And it seemed Nico was still looking for ways to make this my fault. I would have to be careful.

"I was merely curious. The intention was not to cause alarm for either of you."

"Well, I do not understand why it is your concern, child. If you were truly a faultless citizen, why would you worry about what trouble others are causing?" He is trying to trap me. I must not let him. "Mildred, there has been concern expressed about our Carnation lately. We fear she is hiding something." I had really about had it with this conversation. First of all, _our_ Carnation? I am not his anything. Secondly, from where has he heard this fine bit of information? I suppose Darlena had been lurking around and snitching. Well, I was done not causing trouble with her. Especially if it turned out that Chlorine was in trouble because of her. Unless it was Chlorine all along. Maybe she was spying for Nico like I had originally suspected. She wouldn't. Or would she? The idea hurt more than I would have thought. It must not be her. 

"Who has told you this? Darlena?" It must be her. 

"Have patience, child." To my mother: "I'm surprised she is even listening to us."

I lean forward, a response to that on the tip of my tongue. My mother gives me a warning look. 

"Just a moment." Nico steps outside. I strain to hear the hushed voices outside. 

"That is no way to treat your Bishop," my mother hisses. "Now, tell me what is going on. We want to help you."

They want me to not cause trouble. That is what they want. 

"Why must you always make things so difficult?" she asks, but I am not listening. Nico has returned. And with him is Neena.


	35. Chapter 35

First, my mind cannot register anything but shock. That shock is soon replaced by betrayal. How dare she? She was supposed to be my closest friend. Friends didn't do this. There must be a mistake. She is here to defend me, to say I had no part in this. She must be.

She hasn't met my eye once since she entered the room. Her head has stayed bowed toward the floor. She always sits up so straight. Something is wrong.

"Go on, child," Nico prompts.

Her hesitation is clear. 

"What is the meaning of this?" I demand. Nico looks as if he would like to smear me on the spot. Neena bursts into tears.

"I am so worried about you, Carnation!" she wails. "You have been acting so... so _oddly_ lately. I just didn't know what to do!" She looks at Nico helplessly.

"Neena has done a good job. One should always go to their Bishop if anything is of concern."

"But I have been being completely normal!" I may as well go make my own Monument of Exhaltation at this point.

Neena cries harder. "But you haven't! You never have time for me anymore. You are always sneaking off after lessons and you never tell me anything!"

"Carnation. Is this true?" My mother's voice is quiet but I know she is furious. Nico grins triumphantly. 

"Why must you make your poor mother worry? Not to mention poor Neena. She cares about you so much. What sort of friend are you?" 

Neena lets out a few sobs for good measure. 

"Look at the poor thing! Look what you have done!" cries Nico. A big tear lands on the floor. 

I glare at Neena. "Oh, do stop crying." I am feeling quite testy. I cannot believe she would do this, though I suppose I shouldn't be surprised.

"Carnation!" Suddenly, my mother bursts into tears too. Oh, for glory's sake. "I try every day to be a good mother to you, and this is what I get! Why? What have I done to make you be like this?" 

As annoyed as I am, a twinge of guilt creeps in. She sounds so heartbroken and I have caused it. At the same time, I am furious. I have done nothing wrong that they can prove.

"Mildred, this is not your fault. This is Carnation's. Sometimes a good tree grows a rotten fruit. Perhaps you're unfit to be a mother, but perhaps Carnation is unfit to be anyone's daughter. It was the same with Gloriana. Rotten to the core, just like this one here. You could have been an early Glorified. Should have been but you gave that up for the thankless task of raising her. I should have listened to Reisdro when he said we should have given her to the vultures when she was born." 

I can hardly take it anymore. Well, I suppose I can use this to my advantage. For once, I allow myself to cry. If it worked for Neena, perhaps it can work for me. I sniffle as audibly as possible without sounding as fake as Neena.

"It's just so hard!" I wail. 

"Whatever is this about, child?"

"All I have done is work to be a good Vialist! And no one believes me. Everyone thinks I'm horrible!"

My mother looks at Nico. He scoffs. At least Neena has the decency to listen quietly.

"And now you are all attacking me! You always attack me! I did nothing!"

"Not that we can prove." Nico stated. "If there was, you wouldn't be here talking to us. You would be smeared already."

"What's the point, though, if you can't prove anything?"

I continue to sob about how much pressure is put on me. Finally, Nico sighs. "Neena, keep an eye on her. Mildred, you too. And if you don't mind, let us pray for your daughter's wicked soul."

"Let us."

 

They go to our altar of the Vialae to pray. Neena motions for me to follow her. She still will not meet my eye. I am tempted to refuse to go anywhere with her, but Nico and my mother are still within earshot. We walk together though I cannot stand to be with her. I am debating whether it is worth it to try to evade her or if she will just go crying back to Nico. I come to the decision that however unpleasant I may currently find her company, any attempt to rid myself of her will only serve to make this situation worse for me. I plan to ignore her, draw out this walk for as long as possible, and keep my eyes and ears out for anything that could enlighten me as to what happened. Nico can't complain if I'm with his precious Neena, after all.

She starts to say something. I ignore her, attempting to focus all my attention on the Statues of the Glorified that line the gallery we are walking through, each tucked in its own alcove, some with a window behind them. Their gaze cast forever upward, their hands gracefully clasped above their faces. What are they seeing? Their eyes are so empty. Each represents a different member of the highest order of the Glorified, but there is little that differs from Statue to Statue. Some people pray to a specific Glorified that they identify most with. I suppose Neena's intent is to pray for me too.

"We shall head to the gallery in Vetomo's region. I would like to pray to my favored Glorified." So predictable, Vialists. 

To go to Vetomo's region, unless one wanted to walk through the entire city, it was necessary to pass through Nills's region, perhaps one of the few things that could make this walk even more unpleasant. The whole place reeked of people who had lost themselves completely to Vialism, who had let Dema beat them down until nothing was left. A deep, dark, nearly indescribable despair of lives completely crushed permeated everything. It filled the whole city, really. It was practically part of the air. But nowhere else was it as strong as Nills's region. Even Neena seemed ill at ease. I made an effort to move through it as quickly as possible, grateful to finally reach the walkway that marked the entrance to Vetomo's region. 

"May my friend no longer stray from the light of the Vialae. May she stay on our brilliant, glorious path." Neena paused, bowed before the statue of her favored Glorified. Refusing to look at her, I focus on the plaque at its feet. Paul Prenter. One of Dema's greatest Glorified, according to Nico. I wondered if he ever betrayed his friend, too. He looked like he would. Neena prattles on about how she hopes Vialism will save me but I have already begun to walk away. I have no desire to hear her continue to pretend to care about me after what she has done. For all of this is intended to crush me, no matter how expertly veiled in caring it may be. Further down the row of identical alcoves, I catch sight of a girl who looks like Chlorine kneeled beside a statue. I am so very relieved that she does not seem to have been the one in such trouble with the Bishops, but I find it strange. She does not seem like the type to pray to a Glorified. Perhaps I was mistaken. But she turns, and I see that I was not. I feel the urge to run to her, to hold onto her and just take in her presence. After that, we would find someplace to sit together and I would tell her all that had happened. I was sure she would be just as infuriated as me, though it was still so new to me that I could actually talk about my true feelings on life here with her. I was so used to burying them deeply inside. How I felt had never mattered before. 

Of course, I was being quite ridiculous. There was no way I could go near her right now. Neena would see, and I'm sure she'd go wailing right back to Nico. I had better hope that Chlorine had not seen me at all. But it was too late and she had. She stood there, eyes fixed on me, lips slightly parted. It was the sort of gaze that always made me feel completely vulnerable, like she could see everything I had carefully hidden where I thought nobody would ever discover it. And now was the worst time for that. I gestured toward where Neena prayed with her back to us, toward the door, and brushed my hands lightly over my neck, hoping she would understand my meaning. With a final lingering glance at me, she crept out, so silently that it was like she had never been there. 

She is alright. I will see her again. The Bishops have not gotten to her. I hide the joy that rises within me with that knowledge by turning my attention back toward the Glorified, hoping my face betrays nothing unusual. More blank, upturned faces, more hands held aloft. The Glorified that Chlorine had chosen was different, somehow. He looked like there was still life in him, like he had refused to let his existence drain it all out of him like the others. There was light in his eyes, and he looked like he knew wonderful secrets. His Statue had no plaque denoting his identity. He looked familiar, but I was unsure why. 

"There you are!" Neena cried, embracing me. It took everything in me not to push her away. "What are you doing by this one?" She gestures to the Statue beside us. "He made several Bishops angry. I don't know what he did, but it must be dreadful." 

Why did he become a Glorified with such honor that a statue was made for him, then? It was a mystery to me how this place worked sometimes, honestly.

"Surely you have heard about him!" she exclaims. "He was actually from Sacarver's region, actually. He has a statue in Nico's region too. It's on the way to the lesson-hall."

The bright tape I had seen that day when everything changed with Chlorine. It had been on Nico's version of this statue. 

"I may have seen him in passing, but I don't particularly remember." I had probably noticed him before, too, and just was not remembering at the moment. If you spend your life in Dema, you become well-acquainted with all the fixtures of your everyday surroundings. You have to, to give yourself something to do that is not completely mind-numbing. I probably had taken note of him before, as I often took note of people who seemed to have some sort of life behind their eyes, but it must have slipped my mind. Things have a way of doing that, here. I don't want to place blame on our glorious Bishops, but it is terribly strange how unique thoughts sometimes have the propensity of vanishing out of our brains. For some more than others. 

"Oh, well he did some pretty terrible things. The Bishops were furious." 

"Like what?" I did not want to bring up any words beginning with an E, else I may find myself in another incident before this day is even over. Perhaps even one involving another thing that begins with S.

"I don't actually know. Never wanted to." Of course you didn't, Neena. "He treated the traditions of Vialism and the Bishops themselves with complete disregard." Ah, yes, glory forbid that happening. I try to picture a Glorified getting one of the lectures I so frequently receive, but the idea is too odd. 

"Why is he a Glorified, then? I thought Glorified were upstanding citizens of Dema like you. Not poor little wicked souls like me."

"The Bishops are merciful. After he left this world, they forgave him, for he must have had a tortured soul indeed. The statue is a monument of that mercy." 

After a moment, she continued. "You see, the Bishops want us all to have a most glorious existence. They want to forgive us, to lead us on the luminous path they have created for us. That they have created because they want to make our lives better, you see? But you must allow them to forgive you." I see. So the statue is really about the greatness of Bishops. And now Neena wishes to hold it as a mirror to my own ingloriousness. At Nico's request, I am sure.

"If they're so forgiving, why do they need my permission?"

"Nico thought you'd be more receptive to this from me. You see, you must truly repent for your offenses." 

"I see. Well, I will apologize for the thing I didn't do. Are you happy?"

"You must mean it."

"Oh, I will mean it, alright."

"Very good. We will go to Nico and your mother now. The poor woman. She is heartbroken. Are you at least sorry for that?" She will make a fine Bishop one day. I keep expecting to hear her call me child.

"She is always disappointed. This is just how it is."

"She fears it is because of a failure on her part."

"She should not be silly. It is my fault. Nico certainly tells her that enough."

"Our glorious Bishop speaks to each of us in different ways. He is working with her on raising you better."

Maybe I should become a Glorified. I would be no more trouble. Nico could forgive me. I could practically hear Neena wailing over my Monument of Exhaltation now. I could join the ranks of Aunt Gloriana and the unnamed Glorified as Terrible Vialists of Bishop Legend, used to threaten children in Dema for years after. But I think of the singing man, surely still struggling, fighting against the constrains of Vialism somewhere. Of Chlorine. She wouldn't like it if I became a Glorified. Somehow, that mattered more to me than what Nico, my mother and Neena thought. And surely, Keons wouldn't approve either. 

These thoughts fueled me all the way home. I made my apologies, my mother and Nico replied with equally insincere forgiveness. Finally Nico and Neena left. My mother scolded awhile longer. When she finishes at last, I head to bed, exhausted by the events of the day. A piece of paper sits on my pillow, the tell-tale folds proclaiming it was left by Chlorine. As I open it, I wonder again how she leaves these without anyone seeing. The message inside is handwritten this time, barely legible in her messy scrawl:

_What has happened? I did not know and I worried for you. I was glad to see you were alright, but noticed you were being watched. What happened since We were last together? Something tells me it can't be good. Come find me as soon as you can. And be careful.  
-Chlorine_


	36. Chapter 36

_Can't be good, indeed._ I search for a place to hide Chlorine's letter, not wanting to destroy it. I wanted to have some reminder of someone who hadn't turned against me around, in case I never was able to leave this room again without being under constant surveillance. Or maybe I would get my own personal Watcher to keep an eye on me at all times to make sure I didn't try to escape in my sleep. Now that was a lovely thought. Imagine me walking right out of here as I slept. Imagine the look Nico would have on his face! I almost wish I could see it. I laughed as I shoved the letter deep inside my pillowcase where it would hopefully be safe for now. Even if my mother decided to start snooping around for proof of my supposed nefarious intentions, I doubted she would look there.

As if I had summoned her, my door opened and she peered inside with a contemptuous expression. "I thought you were going to sleep."

"I am about to."

"You said you would be already."

"No, you decided that."

"Don't let me see you awake again. I will be checking."

"Yes, mother."

"I would suggest you take me seriously tonight, if you are capable of it. I have had an exhausting day."

"Alright." _She_ has had an exhausting day? Ah, yes. I imagine all that sobbing to Nico is exhausting. Neena must be out cold by now. Perhaps if I found someone to be suspicious of for merely existing I would be asleep by now and mother would be happy. 

I dug my hands under my blanket. The Vialae in the center of the room made an angry buzzing sound. My mother's eyes flickered to me, studying my face closely. 

"I think you owe me another apology." She thinks she is owed everything.

"I'm sorry mother."

"You always say that. You never change." She storms away. I want to argue with her but I know that is exactly the reaction she wants. If I do that, she will wear me down until I no longer believe in my own sanity and end up begging her for forgiveness. Better to just ignore her. Without any reaction from me, maybe she will get bored of this and stop.

I squeeze my eyes shut. The Vialae begins to flicker and lets out a high-pitched scream. 

"What have you done to your Vialae?" mother shrieks. "It better not be flickering again. You have caused Nico enough trouble for now without him having to re-glorify it!"

"How can this be my fault? You know only Bishops have control over Vialae! It is probably _Nico_ trying to punish me!" If only she knew. I supposed was concerning, the way the Vialae had begun responding to my emotions so often lately, but I was too angry to be bothered about it right now.

"Well, I don't understand why yours malfunctions more than any other in this whole city!"

"Maybe it's faulty! Like me." A broken Vialae for a broken child. I laughed bitterly as I watched the darkness spread over my hands. Was it my imagination, or did it seem to creep further up my arm than it ever had before? Soon, this may not be something I would be able to hide any longer. Tendrils of something chilly and unpleasant stretched deep inside me. 

_Ignore it. It is just like mother, this thing. It will shrink back into itself if I just pay it no mind._

But it is hungry. It rages, and it will not quiet until it is given what it desires. It craves pain. 

Pain and then silence, glorious silence.

If I feed it, it will grow.

There was light like that once, before Vialae, a blazing, glowing thing that consumed everything around it in order to grow brighter and higher. If what Chlorine says is true, this violent, consuming light still exists somewhere outside of here. But while what she speaks of burns with glowing warmth, what lives inside of me is darkest black and icy cold. If fueled and allowed to grow, both can destroy. But they're not the same.

I lie down and make myself as small as possible. I try desperately to force it down. I have always been able to do it before.

This time, it seems different. I know somehow it will not leave until I satisfy it.

What would it take to satisfy it? I shivered.

Curling up against the hard blocks of the wall, I tried to make myself as small as possible. I wondered if I could make myself disappear if I made myself small enough and quiet enough. If I could simply cease to exist in this moment, I would. Only because of Chlorine would I ever think twice about it, and I don't know when I will be able to see her again. I was overcome with a deep, sudden longing to be with her. Of course, that wasn't possible. My mother would call for the entire city to be put on lockdown if she lost sight of me while blinking. Only to berate me for the inconvenience I caused when she opened her eyes again and saw that I hadn't gone anywhere. Even if that was not the case, I could never let her see me in this state. The warmth in her eyes when she looked at me would vanish in an instant when she saw who I really was, and she would see only what everyone else saw in me. Except it would be even worse, because only she would know just how twisted and broken I really was.

I would rather be eaten still alive by the vultures. 

I became vaguely aware of my mother's footsteps drawing nearer. I sighed and did my best to appear asleep. I couldn't take any more of her venom tonight. I could feel her presence close by, a heavy, hateful thing, threatening to smother me. The Bishop inside me makes all my perceptions stronger. A knock sounds at the front door and she hurries to answer it. The bit of distance allows me to breathe more freely.

"What do you want?" she snaps. I pity the poor soul who has unwittingly found themself the latest victim of my mother's bitter fury. 

"Oh! I'm terribly sorry. I thought someone else lived here. I must have gotten lost." Oh no. Chlorine, why are you here?

"Does this have something to do with Carnation? If so, leave at once!" Please be smart, Chlorine. 

"Who is Carnation?"

Silence. I can practically feel my mother glaring at Chlorine. I wished I could shield her from it all. I have lived with my mother my whole life and though her words have lodged themselves in me, have irreversibly shattered something deep within, I am used to her. I do not want her anywhere near the only girl who has ever made me feel whole. But there is nothing I can do. If I involve myself, I will only risk getting us both in trouble.

When she speaks again, her voice is sure and confident, but I catch the undertone of fear underneath. "Listen, I am just lost. I do not know what you are talking about. I am sorry to cause any disturbance to you. I am going to leave now, alright? May you be illuminated by glory." 

My mother says something else, but I don't catch it. My brain is eerily empty. I despise her so strongly in this moment that it frightens me. I am so filled with poison, I have become it. My Vialae has stopped flickering.

I wait until I'm sure Chlorine is gone, until I feel my mother's presence again as she creeps into my room to check that I am where I should be.

When she steps out, I follow, silent as a shadow. She scarcely has time to notice me before my hands glide across her throat with an elegance I did not know I had. She slumps to the ground, silent at last. I look down at her, relief filling every part of my body. I blink, and just as suddenly the relief is replaced by horror.

What have I done?

I know I cannot stay here. I run out of the apartment as fast as I can, traces of that eerie grace still with me. Where can I go? Not to Chlorine, not like this. 

There is only one person I can go to, now. I run as fast as I can, not stopping until I reach my destination.

When I arrive at last, Neena opens the door like she has been expecting me.

"What is the matter, Carnation?" 

I find I cannot speak. How can I explain what I did? All I can do is gesture uselessly at my hands. 

"You have come to the right place, Carnation. Let me help you." 

I do not completely trust her, not after earlier, but I cannot help but feel comforted. She may be the only one who truly understands. I nod and follow her inside.


	37. Chapter 37

"You... what?"

I nodded. 

"You really smeared someone? I cannot believe it! I haven't dared to try it yet. And there you are, practically a real Bishop already!" Neena was practically beaming, but upon a closer look there was an undercurrent of something suspiciously like jealousy behind it. 

"Shhhhh. As you can imagine, I don't want the entire city to know about this. I can't imagine the Nine would see this as anything but a threat-"

"Yes, Nico is a bit more old-fashioned. Oh, but Sacarver!"

Sacarver. Yes. Well-known as one of the most easily willing to... get rid of those she saw as threats. Though much younger than the others, close in age to my mother- oh, what had I done?- there were several nasty glorifications that had happened in her comparatively short time as a Bishop. I would never forget how cold her hands were as she smeared me, or the way she had looked at me at the assemblage, pure hatred in her eyes. I'm sure she would delight in discovering a reason to get rid of me.

"What about her?"

"She's the youngest Bishop there is. She took her place among the Nine when she wasn't much older than you or I. Before that, she was just like you or I, I'd imagine. Perhaps she could prepare us! Help us really learn all that we are able to do. Who knows, one day one of us may need to replace one of them! Keons is looking a bit frail, as is Listo."

"Neena! it is sacrilegious to say such things!" How could she speak about Keons this way? Dema without him would be a very terrifying place indeed. And to hear her talk about the death of Bishops so casually! My feelings toward the Nine may not be as steadfastly devoted as many, but it was no small thing to imagine one of them dying. They seem always so untouchable.

"Oh, Carnation! Since when have _you_ cared about that?"

"It just feels strange. Besides, I'm really not sure we should tell anyone about this. They may see us as threats. You know what they do to people who are threats to them."

"Oh, very well! We will not go to Sacarver. Yet. At least tell me who you smeared, though."

This was the moment I had dreaded. i couldn't get the words out. They kept sticking somewhere between my throat and my tongue, choking me. Just like my hands on my mother's neck as I wished I could silence her forever-

"Come on, Carnation. I cannot help you if you do not tell me what happened."

I opened my mouth uselessly once again, wishing I could manage to force the words out, cough up all the darkness that dwells within. I imagine it splattered on the floor, black and slimy, a physical manifestation of every horrid thought or urge that has risen and threatened to take over me.

Neena hasn't taken her eyes off me this whole time. There is something hungry in them. "I will wait," she says, but she is so full of expectation and I do not know if I can take much more of her eerie staring. Her eyes seem to bore into me, every sound a small, sharp thing cutting at the inside of my head. I realize I can do the same thing to her that I did to my mother, if I need to.

She grabs my arms, holding me in place.   
"Let me go!" I cry, the desperation showing through in my voice much more than I'd like. She is far too close to me, and I find it highly invasive. I never much like to be touched, and when the darkness takes over I find it particularly unsettling. I struggle to free myself, but her grip only grows tighter.

"You must tell me what you did." Her voice has a new edge to it now. I recognize it as a similar sort of desperation. "Tell me. You can trust me. I will not tell a soul." She uses a quieter, more gentle tone, perhaps realizing speaking harshly will not get anything out of me. She has picked up on me more than I give her credit for. The tension in my throat releases, slightly.

When the words finally come out, they tumble from my tongue jagged, all at once. "My mother. I smeared my mother. She was watching, always watching, always picking me apart. Always trying to control me. I could no longer bear it. I lost control. I have gotten close to losing it before, but never quite like this." My breath catches, and the pressure in my throat and face makes me fear I will cry, but I don't. That is a small mercy.

She doesn't understand. I can tell she doesn't. There are some things she can understand, but this isn't one of them. In her mind there is no reason to do this to your mother. To her, mothers, like Bishops, always know what is best for you. She does not feel constrained by everything in the way I do. I understand all of this, and realize I can't be here right now. She wants to know everything, to take and take more from me in the name of understanding, and I'm in no mind for that. This part of us she is so fascinated by is something that I'm not even sure I want. 

I think that Chlorine would understand but, of course, she could never. She would hate who I was, if she really knew me. She hates Them, and I am like Them. I must leave Neena, but I'm not sure where to go. Chlorine is out of the question. I do not want to go home. Going all the way to Keons's region is too risky. I could try to find the way out again, take my chances with whatever is beyond Dema's walls. Fleetingly, my mind grips recklessly onto that idea, but no, I couldn't do it. Tonight's events prove that there is nowhere I could ever belong but here. Besides, whenever I imagine leaving, it is always with Chlorine by my side. Still, though I don't know where to go, I must go somewhere. I must not stay here. So as Neena looks to me, waiting for my response to something I hadn't heard a word of, I pull myself together enough to go. I ignore her as she calls behind me, running once again, further and further from her until I no longer hear her and figure either I have made it out of earshot of her or she has given up. A sharp pain stabs at my side, growing more and more excruciating until I am forced to stop, scarcely able to move. My lungs burn as I breathe raggedly in and out, standing paralyzed in the center of another one of my region's identical hallways. My vision goes dark, and I sink to the ground. When the darkness fades back into the Vialae-lit hall, I catch sight of a window, the night outside reflecting myself back at me. My face is pale, and my skin has taken on a grayish cast, not unlike the ashy faces of Bishops. I am repulsed at the sight of myself, but I cannot look away. As I keep looking, I swear I see myself becoming one of them, my face getting still paler, my hands going permanently black and powdery, the bottom of my face darkening to match. I look unhappy, my mouth going tight and miserable like my mother's always does. In my mind, I hear her screaming. I cannot bear to think of her right now. I cannot bear any of this. I wish I could rip my skin off, tear myself from this horrid vessel. Rip whatever has gone bad inside out from me. Let it soak into the floor. This place is rotting me slowly from the inside. I am rotten.

My eyes have squeezed shut. I force them open and run again, refusing to stop despite the pain. I want the pain, need it, am almost glad to feel it sharpen until I feel nothing else. At least it shuts my mind up for awhile. I will not stop. I don't know what will happen when I have no more of these indistinguishable hallways left to run in. I will not think about it now. If I do, the other thoughts will edge their way in and it will all become unbearable again. I almost run into something. I remember other times I hadn't looked whereI was going and, for a horrible second, feared it was Chlorine I almost collided with. 

It is not. It is the man I saw from the window so many years ago. The one who gave me the flowers. The one who told me to wake up. 

"Always running, aren't you?"

I look up at him. He has been smeared very recently, possibly tonight, even. Yet, he remembers me.

"We keep meeting this way, don't we?"

I nod, unsure what to say.

"What are you running from, now?" 

I feel like I could tell him, but I don't know where to start.

"I don't blame you. There are so many things to want to run from here." 

It is strange how well he seems to understand. No one else seems to, and while I have always realized that, I only fully understand the fact of it now. I realize just how lonely it has been. Also interesting is that though he has continued to talk to me despite the fact that I am not responding, but it doesn't bother me like I'd expect it to. He isn't talking at me like most people do. He doesn't expect things from me. He genuinely just seems to want to make me feel understood. He reminds me a bit of Chlorine, in that way.

"I saw the look on your face. This place has a way of really getting to you. The Bishops can really get in your head at times."

"You don't know the half of it," I find myself saying. 

He smiles sadly. "Just remember, you aren't what they make you. No matter what, you must not let yourself forget that."

I want to tell him everything. I open my mouth, but he puts his finger to his lips and leans in close.

"Speaking of, here comes Nico. He must not hear us. I want to hear what is on your mind but whatever it is, the Nine must never know."

He begins to pace up and down our part of the hallway, eyes staring intently at the ground, talking under his breath to himself from time to time. It is impressive how rapidly he morphs into someone completely different. By the time Nico arrives, he is nearly unrecognizable.

"Tyler. What a surprise." He does not sound surprised at all. "What are you doing here?" 

Tyler begins muttering impassionedly, the words I catch seeming to make no sense. Suddenly, he starts to softly sing.

"You are lucky it is not you I am looking for, Tyler. I will deal with you later." He looks up, spotting me immediately. "Ah, Carnation. Precisely the girl I was searching for. Your mother has been frantic." 

He takes my hand and leads me down the halls, back to where this all began.

By the time I look back toward Tyler, he is gone.


	38. Chapter 38

I dread Nico's verbal attack, but it doesn't come. Most of the walk home is in silence, albeit a very hostile silence. I wait, knowing it will inevitably be broken before long. There is no way he has nothing to say about this, and I'm sure whatever he plans to say will be terrible. Indeed, as we reach the hall on which I live with my mother, he clears his throat. It is an unpleasant, guttural sound, and I can't stop myself from flinching.

"I arrived at your apartment a bit under an hour ago, and it would seem the strangest events had transpired. At first, I thought no one was home, but somehow my intuition told me that was not the case. Lucky, too. It turned out that your mother had blacked out awhile before, and only just recovered consciousness. Even more disturbingly, she had no memory of what had happened. i wondered if you could tell us what exactly occurred, but you were missing." His eyes are icy. I wonder what, exactly, he suspects.

"I was with Neena. She had offered to help me, after the unfortunate events from earlier. I have no idea what could have happened to my mother. Perhaps she only fell asleep? Today was quite exhausting."

"Yes, it was, wasn't it? For you, too, I imagine. i know your relationship with her has been quite... strained. Are you sure there is nothing you can tell me about this?" He cannot believe I caused this, can he? Could he not see how unlikely it would be? Surely he would look into other causes. Right? 

"You cannot possibly be so willing to believe me capable of this. You know there is no way for me to do what you are accusing me of."

"I know, Carnation, that you are rarely as innocent as you make yourself seem. You have your ways, I am sure. Of course, nothing can be proven yet." He lets out a sigh. Is it exhaustion or irritation? "You will go before the Council promptly at the eighth hour of the new day. We will determine then if we believe you are hiding something."

"I did nothing." 

"No use in arguing this right now. The Council will decide your innocence tomorrow. Your lecturer will be notified, so she will know not to expect you in lessons. I will come to collect you a half-hour before. Be ready. Until then, I suggest you go to bed and take care not to cause your poor mother any more trouble."

I nod weakly, no longer having the energy to do anything more. It wouldn't matter, anyway, he wouldn't believe me no matter how hard I fought. Best to save my energy for the council tomorrow. I would have to face all nine Bishops, and my odds do not look good...

We reach the front door. Nico knocks and my mother opens it almost immediately, glaring suspiciously at me. She has no marks, I notice. I must not have smeared her properly, and they must have already faded. Hopefully they were already gone when Nico arrived. Whatever he suspects, he surely couldn't guess the truth. I cannot help feeling a bit relieved.

"I have brought her back, Mildred. I don't think she will cause any more upset, will you, Carnation?"

"No, Nico."

"She has better not."

"Do not worry. The council will make sure we get to the bottom of all of... this." They both stare at me with such unbridled disgust. My mother grips my shoulders tightly, pushing me toward my room with a terse expression on her face. 

"If you are wise, you will not let me see you again until the morning." She slams the door shut, quite clearly taking care to storm off loud enough that I could hear every furious footstep. 

She bids Nico farewell, and I picture her looking in the direction of my door as she speaks, intending me to hear every word.

"I do not trust her." Nico whispers in agreement. "Yes, you are right. You know, I am really starting to think there is something seriously wrong with her." She is not the only one. I have long suspected it, and this evening's happenings have only proved it. Still, it hurts to hear it said, though I have also known she felt this way for awhile. She has always presumed to know who I was, even as I was far too young to have any idea myself. Perhaps in believing the worst of me, she and Nico had shaped me into what I now am. They never stopped to consider that by treating me as if I were a monster when I had no way of proving otherwise, no way to defend myself, they had doomed me to become one. Perhaps it was them who were broken, not me. Even as I think this, all the others who live in this city come to mind, those who have turned out nothing like me. Even Neena, with her similar abilities, is able to exercise control in a way I cannot. She would never do what I did. Though it may be others who have broke me, I am certainly broken. Reisdro's words were correct, as I suppose I had always known them to be. I should fear myself. 

I am nearly sure to have to face him tomorrow. I wonder what he will say. What will happen to me? Keons will be there, which may be my saving grace. However, Nico and Reisdro will certainly be working against me, and I am not at all sure that the others don't wish me ill as well. They will surely go along with Nico, as he is their leader, and he seems to have no intention of showing me any sort of mercy. I wonder what they can really do. There is no way my involvement can be proven. They will have to realize that. Won't they? Keons will vouch for me, hopefully he can make enough of the others see sense. Nico may be the leader, but Keons holds significant power, too. He is integral to this city in ways no one quite seems to understand. They cannot simply disregard him. I must remember that. He is my only hope. No one can know what happened. 

I must believe I will get out of this, somehow. Even as I think again of Reisdro, as I wonder if he will be able to somehow see inside of me and know what I did. There is no proof. I must remember that. It is nowhere near as comforting as knowledge of innocence, but it is something. 

I try not to think of my fate if they are able to prove any violation on my part. Will I be smeared again, or will it be something far worse this time? I do not know exactly what happens to those found to be in violation. In the rare cases it occurs, it is all very much unrevealed to the general population. Never before have I known anyone to have to appear before the Council before. I believe the main punishment is smearing, but I have never known anything like this to happen before. At any rate, best not to think about it.

And so I lay there until morning, trying not to think, the thoughts edging in anyway. I do not deserve peace of mind. I am not innocent. As soon as the sky grows light I begin to prepare myself, dressing in my nicest clothes usually reserved for Convocations, making a special effort to neaten my hair. I must give them as little reason as possible to hold me in contempt. Though I deserve the worst, I do not want to endure it, so I must make them believe it is not deserved. I practice in my head what I will say if I am questioned, being sure to emphasize the lack of evidence against me. I pray I am able to hold myself together before the Council. I am ready a half hour before Nico arrives to collect me. As I am not yet of age, my mother will be accompanying me. I am not foolish enough to believe that will do me any good. If anything, she is bound to be just one more person against me.

This time, the entire walk is silent. Even my mother has nothing to say for once, though she glares suspiciously all the way to the Convocation hall where the rest of the council waits. Nico gestures for my mother and me to wait while they confer, and seats himself in the empty chair in the center of the row of waiting Bishops. A curtain obscures them from view, and I hear the muffles sounds of their conversation, though I cannot make out any words. 

"You will not muck this up any further, do you understand?" I nod, pushing down another wave of fury toward her. If she hadn't always been so horrid, I don't believe I would be in this situation. I know that it is not really her that is to blame, that the fault truly lies with all those behind the curtain, but I cannot help but hate her. 

"You will not argue with them."

"They will ask me to plead my case."

"You would be wise not to make yourself appear any more untrustworthy than you already do." It would never cross her mind that her beloved Bishops could, in fact, be the untrustworthy ones.

"I will certainly take that into consideration," I reply, as the curtain is parted and the Nine are revealed again. Nico instructs me to be seated in the single chair facing them, while my mother is told to be seated to the side of the room. I walk as gracefully as possible to my seat, making sure to sit up straight and look each Bishop in the eye. Avoiding eye contact is always a sign of dishonesty. Reisdro's eyes are just as frigid as I remember, and he seems as if he is quite unsurprised to see me again. His expression tells me that, like my mother, he knows there is something wrong with me and that he is determined to discover what is is, for once and for all. Keons attempts to look reassuring, but beside him, Sacarver stares at me like there is something she is trying to figure out, like she has a suspicion she wants to confirm. She worries me almost as much as Reisdro. I am not sure what she wants, yet, but I must look out for her. I am sure it cannot be anything good. She was the one who caught and smeared me after my escape attempt failed, so she already has ample evidence of my untrustworthiness. Between her and Reisdro, whose stare has become even more malicious, my odds are looking very bad indeed. I know the best thing I can do is keep my wits about me, so I try my hardest to do so, though the presence of the Bishops was making me increasingly ill at ease. I must try to believe my preparation was not all for nothing. 

I was glad when Nico called the Council to order, as it meant the end of all the silent staring at last.

"This young woman from my region has been called before us today due to my fear that she may be a danger to those around her. Last night, I paid her mother a visit- coincidentally, to advise her on how to best be the mother her obviously troubled daughter needs following an earlier incident with the girl, Carnation, just that day. Upon my arrival, there seemed to be no one there- quite concerning, considering the late hour and previous events. Upon further inspection, I discovered that the mother, Mildred, had been unconscious, only having awakened very recently, seemingly having forgotten how this all came to be- only a sneaking suspicion that Carnation was somehow involved." Interesting. He did not mention that before. "I fear I was, and still am, inclined to agree with her- especially as it soon became clear that the girl had fled. She was found soon after in a hall some distance away, in considerable distress. She seemed quite unstable, just as I feared. Her mother reports feeling unsafe around her. This, along with her apparent history of deceit and untrustworthiness, has left me uneasy. Thus I call upon the wisdom of my council to assist in determining if Carnation has played any part in this incident, and what our next steps should be regarding her." As expected, it seemed he was doing everything in his power to make me appear guilty. Just as predictably, it was Reisdro who spoke next.

"Quite frankly, though I do not know Carnation well, I would believe it of her. We met not so long ago, after one of my convocations, and she most definitely seemed to possess an air of duplicitousness. It was during that time when she had claimed to have turned over a new leaf, you see, to have been improving herself. I was not certain of her sincerity, and it seems I was right in that."

"With all due respect, Reisdro," Keons cuts in, "I believe it is usually allowed for the one going before the council to plead their case? We ought to hear her story before we continue on with this." 

Grudgingly, Nico relents. "You may say your part, Carnation."

"I fear I had lost my way, these past few days. Nico mentioned there was an incident earlier yesterday. My friend Neena had gone to him, concerned about me. I had found myself under a lot of stress, and had not been myself. He came to speak to me, along with Neena. I was so touched by their worry for me that I had gone to her, hoping she could help guide me on a better path. She has always been exemplary. After meeting with her, I went on a walk around the region to clear my mind. I fear when Nico found me, he assumed the worst. I suppose in light of all he knows about me, it wasn't an unwarranted reaction. I fear I haven't yet had sufficient time to prove to you all that I truly want to be better. As for my poor mother, I fear I do not know what happened to her. She was quite all right before I left to meet Neena. Perhaps she had a faint spell, I get those sometimes. They can be quite disorienting, hence her confusion. I do not blame her for thinking the worst of me, no more than I blame Nico, but I must say it hurts to hear these things. I fear I will never be believed, but at least I will know I had done what I can."

Reisdro's glare grows still colder, and Nico seems unconvinced, but Keons appears moved. "Well said, child. As she says, people often do tend to assume the worst. Perhaps, however, we should consider giving her the benefit of the doubt in this case. She truly does seem to want to be better. It could be that Mildred's collapse is just bad luck. I see no way the girl could have harmed her, in any case."

"You are being too soft on her just as you always are, Keons. I must say, I wonder about your interest in her, considering that she is from my region, not yours." Nico's voice is low and cruel.

"Yes," hisses Reisdro. "I certainly doubt your adequacy to speak on this matter. Was there not an incident involving a young girl in your region just this year?" 

"Very true," murmurs Listo.

"This is not the first time there has been trouble with this one, if I am not mistaken?" 

"That is quite right, Nills," Nico replies. "Sacarver, you have bore witness to the girl's subterfuge before. Do you believe she is deceiving us now?"

"I do not see how it could be."

"Are you saying you believe she is innocent?" 

"There was no sign that Mildred was hit over the head, was there?"

"No," Nico concedes.

"Then there is no way this girl could have done this." Sacarver, advocate on my behalf? Perhaps it is I who has been hit over the head. Keons, I expected, but I was sure she would argue for my guilt right along with Reisdro and Nico. She, out of all of them, has some of the most reason to mistrust me, after all. 

"I am certain she must have her ways-"

"The only ways someone can be forced into unconsciousness are through blunt force to the head or smearing, Reisdro. In order to do what you and Nico have claimed, she would have to possess abilities that are very... unlikely." She looks my over, looking pointedly at my hands. When our eyes meet, I feel in her something highly dangerous- recognition. "No, that isn't possible," she concludes, seemingly almost more to herself than the others.

"It would simply make no sense," agrees Keons.

"It wouldn't, would it? Though certainly a troubled girl, I think we can believe her in this case."

"I believe you are forgetting something. How could she have left her apartment if her mother was still conscious?"

"A good point, Reisdro. I know Mildred would have been keeping a very close eye on her, particularly after earlier."

"That is certainly true, but if I may, I cannot help believing Sacarver and Keons are correct. I simply cannot see how she could have done what you claim she did." Lisden points his eyes at anywhere but me.

"Think about it. Perhaps she wished to foolishly attempt to escape-"

"Reisdro, _that is enough._ We cannot be sure she remembers."

"Oh, she certainly remembers. But that is not the issue here. She wouldn't be foolish enough to try that again, at least not yet."

"Very well, very well. The Council will discuss amongst ourselves. You will be informed of your verdict shortly." The curtain is drawn and I am left, once again, to wait. My mother's lips are so thin, they are close to disappearing. I focus on anything and everything but her hateful face and the curtain behind which my fate is being discussed at this very moment. A door has been left ajar. Very careless. Is it my imagination, or does the shadow suggest that someone waits behind the door? I am certain I see a flicker of movement. 

So focused on the door, I don't notice that the Council has made their decision until the words come out of Nico's mouth.

"We have determined that you have had no part in your mother's unfortunate collapse yesterday. I will corroborate with Neena later to ensure you were really with her. If you were, there is no reason we should believe your story to be untrue. You are dismissed."

Sacarver looks directly at me and I know it is thanks to her that I have gotten out of this. How much does she suspect? She may have surprised me today, but I have not forgotten my misgivings about her.

Reisdro appears to be livid. Nico's expression is grudging. Somehow, my mother appears to look simultaneously disappointed and relieved.

Only I notice the slender, pale-haired figure as she hurries past the unclosed door.


	39. Chapter 39

"So, exactly what has been going on with you?” Chlorine watches me expectantly. 

"I do not even know where to begin." I owe her an explanation, that's for sure, especially after leaving her waiting for so long, after going through the trouble to find her at last. I thought when I saw her I would know what to say, but I still have no clue.

"Let's see. You were with me. You were being _weird_. At first I thought..." She trails off suddenly, staring off into space with an awkwardness that is unusual to her. 

"What had you thought?"

Her face colors. "Never mind. Anyway, then there is some upset with the Bishops and I somehow have a feeling it involves you. Then I see you in the Gallery of the Glorified and it is obvious something is wrong. I left you a note, but you did not come find me. I waited and waited. Then I went to find you, to make sure you were still alive. Your mother is completely terrifying by the way- between her and Nico it is really no wonder you are so fearful. I know how awful it is here, but I do not think I completely understood your situation until then. I decided it would be safest to leave you be for the time being. I would see you tomorrow, right? Then I learned you were going before the _council_ -" I couldn't help shuddering.

"What exactly happened? Why did they make you go before the council? I was trying to figure it out, but it was confusing. I heard Reisdro's version, I think, but I definitely do not believe him. Whatever awful thing he was claiming you did, it didn't make sense. I don't believe it of you."

My heart warmed at the thought that she believed the best of me, that she didn't know the horrors that dwelled within me. I longed more than anything to be the person she saw when she looked at me, but I knew it wasn't possible. Moreover, I had done something awful, and she had no idea. It all felt so dishonest, and I suddenly could no longer stand it. The false face I put up for everyone in this city felt so much harder to keep up around her. My chest felt heavy with the knowledge that I soon would slip and show her my real self- someone no one would feel these warm feelings toward, nor should they. A girl who didn't love, and so did not deserve it, either.

"I'm so sorry, I have to go." I stand up to leave. Chlorine steps in front of me, blocking me.

"No. You are not just leaving again. I know you are so afraid. I can tell there is something happening with you that I don't know about, but you don't need to run away here. And when you are ready to tell me about what is going on, I will be there for you. Whatever it is, you shouldn't go through it alone." 

“I really have to! I have been under constant surveillance since the Council, it was a miracle I was able to get to you at all. They have almost certainly missed me by now and I don’t want them to find out about you. Glory knows what ridiculous thing they will come up with! There are other… Banditos, right? Associating with me could put them all in danger.” 

“You are already here. Staying a little longer won’t make anything worse. And the Banditos are smart, they have been around long before any of us and have dealt with way bigger problems than you. So stay. I get the feeling you have something to say. It would defeat the purpose of you going through all this trouble to come here if you went back home without getting whatever it is off your chest. Who knows if you will ever get another opportunity? This whole thing seems pretty serious.”

The note of urgency seems to release something inside of me, cutting away at all the doubt in my mind long enough for me to make a split second decision:  
“I want to leave.”

“You can’t keep closing your self off- you know what, never mind. Do what you want, I’m not going to stop you.“ She lets out a deflated sigh.

“No. I want to leave Dema. Will you help me?” She has to say yes. I pray she does. I cannot stay here. Who knows what would happen to me, what I would be twisted into?

“Are you-are you sure?”

Questioningly, she looks into my eyes. They must reveal my desperation, since she doesn’t press me for an answer.   
“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.”

“Really?”

“Yes. This place is nothing but a grave. You and I, we don’t belong here. I knew you knew that. You just had to be ready to truly accept it. You had started to, before, but you weren’t completely sure. Now you seem so much more certain.”

“It’s killing us slowly from the insides, isn’t it?”

“It messes with our heads. That’s all Vialism is. Fastest way to kill us, I suppose. Give people nothing to live for, and there’s nothing for them to do but die.”

“That’s why they don’t tell us about anything outside the walls, right? They must snuff out any hope for a better life. All we can know is here, and all of life feels like dying a drawn-out death, until we become their pretty Glorified.”

“Exactly. And so many are willing to just let themselves die. But not you. Never you. I knew that as soon as I met you. Even when you were smeared, you were not just going to let yourself disappear into this place.”

“How exactly did you meet me? I remember seeing you for the first time at the Annual Assemblage, but you seemed familiar. I know it had something to do with the escape.” For the first time, I wondered how well I had known her before I was smeared. 

“I was in the tunnels near the Eastern exit. It is a way only the Banditos knew, or so I thought. I wanted out so badly. I hadn’t had any ties to this place for years, since my parents died, and I always knew Trench was my real home. I had to go back, but the Underground had forbidden it. Kept saying I was safer here for now. Well, I didn’t care much for safety. I belonged out there and I’d much rather risk returning than rot safely in here. Besides, Reisdro was… awful.” She paused and I wondered if I should say anything and, if so, what. She seemed so much more vulnerable than I’d ever seen her, and I feared even one word from me could destroy this fragile moment. Even so, I felt like I should respond in some way, so she knew I had heard her.

“Yes, Reisdro seems quite awful,” I decided on. “I can’t imagine having to live in his region and having him constantly in charge.”

“He is. And let’s hope you never experience that. But this story is not about him. Let’s not let him ruin it.”

I nod, and she continues:  
“Anyway, I was staking out the tunnels, thinking this would be the day I finally got out of here for once and for all. I was at last approaching the door to the tunnel that would lead straight out to Trench, when I saw this girl, running for all it was worth toward the same door. You. You turned, and I saw your face, and your eyes were so bright. So hopeful. You never see eyes like that here. You looked so alive, and I was fascinated. Then I saw Sacarver, and I tried to warn you, but it was much too late. I barely had time to duck behind a pillar before she smeared you.”

“Why didn’t you get out, after she took me away? You seemed so determined.”

“You were stuck in my mind after that. It felt wrong to leave after you couldn’t, and I felt guilty that you were smeared while I was able to get away virtually unnoticed. I wanted to at least make sure you were alright.” She reddens again. “Of course, Stryker found out about it and gave me an earful. He’s in the Underground, has basically taken care of me the past few years. He’s like a brother to me, and very overprotective. But still, I couldn’t stop thinking of you. I’m sure you know how rare it is to find a person who truly sees this place for what it is. What really stuck out to me, though, was how you ran to that door with no fear. Only pure determination, and hope. Hope is so rare here. It was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen. I couldn’t let this place destroy it. They have taken too much already.”

Her eyes burned into mine again, and it seemed suddenly to be harder to breathe. My head seemed to spin with the intensity of her gaze and the true depth of what she had said. She had given up her chance of escaping this place- for me. Then there was the way she talked about me, with such wonder, in a tone that seemed to put to words what was in her eyes whenever she looked at me. And I did not deserve any of it. I tried to tell her so, to apologize, but she stopped me before the words left my mouth. 

“Don’t worry about it, please. I know how this place can twist things. I also always knew you would see sense again. And you have.” She takes my hand, intertwining my fingers with hers. I gasp at how easily she does it, how casually. She squeezes slightly in response. 

“What is it like, in Trench?” I ask, hoping to break the tension that lies like a heavy blanket over us.

“It’s beautiful,” she says softly, stroking my palm with her thumb as she speaks. “More beautiful than anything you could ever imagine. The soil is so dark and rich, and cliffs surround you, many times taller than the city walls. They are like nothing next to these cliffs. It makes you feel in the open, but enclosed, too, at the same time. Despite the size of the cliffs, you never feel confined.” 

“That sounds wonderful,” I whisper. It seems unimaginable to me.

“There is a stream running through the middle of the cliffs, and the water would sparkle in the sun. I used to love to walk in it. The sky is so blue, too, and there is so much green everywhere. And there are these beautiful yellow flowers that don’t grow anywhere in here. You said Tyler gave you one of those, once, right?” 

I nod. “I had never seen anything like it before.”

“Imagine a place where they grow everywhere. There are lots of carnations there too, like the ones you were named for. I have always loved your name, by the way. It suits you.”

“Really? I’ve always thought it was sort of weird. Well, Nico and my mother would agree with you, I suppose. My existence is every bit as annoying to them as those flowers.”

“That isn’t what I mean, though being a thorn in those Bishops’ sides is a good thing in my mind. No, it suits you because you don’t belong here but you keep growing, anyway, no matter how many times the Bishops try to force you into submission. The Banditos use carnations as a symbol of rebellion for the same reason. It is a wonderful name. If any name is weird, it’s mine. You’re a flower, named for one of the only beautiful things in this forsaken place. I’m just a chemical.” 

“I always thought it sounded pretty, even if it is a chemical.” 

“Thank you. That’s why my mother chose it for my name, actually. Said it sounded pretty.” I haven’t noticed, until now, how close she has gotten beside me. I am hyperaware of every movement, every breath she takes. The thing that lies between us is awake and all-consuming, like my inner darkness and yet completely different. I think I should tell her about this thing that lives inside me, but I’m having trouble focusing on anything but her eyes, her mouth, the freckles on her face. Then she presses her lips to mine and every other thought leaves my mind. Her lips are soft, and her hands tangle in my hair as I pull her as close to me as possible. She kisses me softly at first, questioningly. I lean into the kiss, assuring her there is no danger of me pulling away. I am done running from her. For the first time, I have started to feel right and it is because of her. I don’t want to lose that, ever. She begins to kiss me harder, more urgently, and I part my lips to allow her tongue to slip inside. As we kiss, there is no more fear, no more hollowness, only this growing feeling between us that seems to represent all this place stands against. It is like forgetting, but in the best way, not cold and dread-filled like smearing but yet in some ways eerily similar. And it is with that thought that I am abruptly jolted back into the truth of myself. If she is to care about me as deeply as she does, she must know who it is she is kissing. I move my head back slightly and she pulls back too, confused.

“What’s wrong? Did I go too far?”

I shake my head. 

“What happened? I thought you wanted this too. I could feel it! You are quite confusing, Carnation.”

“I did! So much. When you were kissing me, it was one of the best feelings I have felt, ever. It’s just… There is something you need to know about me.”

“What is it? You can tell me.”

“I’m the very thing you hate.”

“You should know that’s not true. I could never hate you! I don’t think I’d be kissing you if I did.”

“Once you hear this, you will. See, I am… I’m…”

I can’t seem to get the words out. She takes my hand again, looking at me with such tenderness that i feel even worse. I close my eyes, forcing myself to have the strength to say what i must say. 

_She will hate you if you tell her_ , my mind seems to taunt, taking on a voice that sounds at once like my mother, Nico and Reisdro. 

_I will hate myself it I don’t, I tell myself_.

“I’m a Bishop. I’m just like all of the rest of them.” The words seem to come out louder than they should, harsher. I wait for her to let go of my hand, to tell me to leave this instant. 

She does not.


	40. Chapter 40

She stares at me for a moment, clearly confused.

"No, you're not," she says, laughing softly.

"Except I am." I look at her, silently pleading her to understand.

"You know, you have said a lot of crazy things, but this might be craziest yet." It feels like my insides have turned to lead. Even Chlorine, who seemed to know me in a way no one else did, wasn't taking me seriously. It did, I suppose, sound crazy, but it still hurt.

Some vestige of this must have appeared on my face, because her eyes soften and she squeezes my hand tight. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be dismissive of you. Listen, the Bishops mess with you. They get into your head, and they can make you believe things. Unfortunately, it is far too easy to fall into their traps. That doesn't make you a horrible person. That doesn't mean you are as bad as them." Her eyes are begging me to understand her. If only she could see that for the first time, it was _her_ that wasn't understanding .

"You don't get it."

"Then can you help me get it?"

She wouldn't, I knew, unless she saw it for herself. I knew what I had to do, though I didn't want to do it. I slid my hand out from the warmth of hers. I closed my eyes and summoned every bit of frustration I felt at not being understood, at being trapped here, at the people who drove me to this state. I reminded myself that I was not angry at Chlorine, I was only showing her what I was, because I might forget later. And I kept summoning and summoning until it filled me, until I felt like I wanted to rip my skin out and escape myself, and I let it fester into the familia thick, black, mucky feeling. I sat with it a few more moments, as it seemed to ooze through my veins and finally, I felt my hands begin to darken. 

"Look," I told her. Though I could tell she didn't want to, she did. Her mouth opened, but no words came out. 

"This is what I am, see? This is me. I needed you to know this. I understand if you want nothing to do with me. _I_ want nothing to do with me."

"Carnation-"

"I smeared my mother. That is why I went before the council. I smeared her, and she fell, and I ran away. She didn't remember, but she and Nico were... suspicious. They don't know what I am but they always suspect me when anything goes wrong. This time, they were right. But they cannot know." I looked away, speaking quieter. "I didn't ever mean to. But when I was coming home back from being with you there something happened- Did Tyler escape again?"

"He was found, actually. He'd managed to get out soon after he had been smeared, and managed to stay out there for several days. As you might expect, that terrified the Bishops. They didn't like that at all. But how did you get involved with this?"

"Well, I told you they like to blame me. My mother didn't know what happened but, as is her way, she assumed it was my fault. She even got Nico involved, and apparently Neena had come to him crying that I was being weird. Oh glory, if you had seen the theatrics she put on. She was sobbing, actually sobbing, about how _worried_ she was about me."

"Wow, that is completely crazy. I never trusted that girl, but still."

"I did trust her. Now? I don't know." I leave out her place in the Bishop thing. I don't exactly trust her anymore, but I won't give her any reason not to trust me. "Anyway, they were all saying such awful things, but I managed to stay in control. I wasn't expecting Neena, but things like this with my mother and Nico happen all the time. It was later, when I heard my mother talking to you, that something snapped. I am used to her, but you shouldn't have to deal with it."

"That's what happened?" I nod. She looks furious.

"I'm sorry about this. See, I told you I wasn't who you thought I was. And I'm really sorry."

"I'm not mad at you. This is not your fault. They drove you to this. Somehow, this is even worse than I thought. I need to think. We should get out of here as soon as possible. I'll be right back." She grabs a bowl and steps out, returning it filled with water. She places it in my lap. "Rinse your hands." I do as she says, transfixed by the darkness leaching off my hands and into the water. It is cold, and my hands turn nearly white, then red when the air hits them.

"Thank you."

"I'm sorry to send you back there, but you should go home before it gets any worse for you. Soon you will never have to go back. Act normal. Don't draw any attention to yourself. I'll find a way to let you know when I figure something out." She puts her arms around me, holding me close to her. She plants a quick kiss on my lips and I carry the warmth of it with me as I step out the door, back toward home, feeling as though I was leaving it rather than returning to it. Soon, perhaps, things would be different. I allowed myself a small smile as I imagined the possibilities before arranging my expression into a neutral, unobtrusive mask. This could only work if no one suspected anything, and the smallest things were suspect here. I must be very careful.


End file.
